


Vagabond

by LolaLot



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-10-30 02:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LolaLot/pseuds/LolaLot
Summary: His own dry heaving was what woke Kakashi first, then came the vomit he managed to contain in the bucket beside his bed. It hit him then - this wasn't his bedroom. Kakashi stepped outside the apartment and the wind was knocked out of him. He'd never seen anything like this sea of concrete, lights and cables. Not only was he not home, he wasn't in Konoha - or even the same continent.





	1. Chapter 1

His own dry heaving was what woke Kakashi first, then came the horrible headache, nausea and the actual vomit he somehow managed to contain in the bucket beside his bed. His head spun, his throat burned. He recognized the symptoms of drunkenness beyond what should be reasonable. Strangest of all, he did not remember drinking. He crawled out of bed -- or tried to, for he simply fell on his side on the floor -- and groaned. His desk light was still on. Nausea rising again, he grabbed the bucket just in time to throw up into it a second time.

 

Last he remembered, he had gone to bed to sleep. Sober. 

 

“What the fuck,” Kakashi grumbled, splayed on his back. 

 

It hit him then -- this wasn’t his bedroom. He didn’t recognize the yellow walls, nor the desk light. He certainly did not keep buckets next to his bed. 

 

“Shit.”

 

He had to get out. This wasn’t normal. How much had he had to drink? He tried to stand again, but his head spun so much he settled for crawling on all fours. The clock, which he barely managed to read, showed seven in the morning. No, this was far from normal. Had he been poisoned? Though it was within the realm of possibility, his symptoms and the empty bottles laying around told another story. 

 

Help.

 

He needed to find help. Hangovers and alcohol were never strangers to him, but this was something else. He feared if he fell asleep again he just might never wake up. He held no fear for death, but choking in a puddle of his vomit was far from his preferred method. He tried for the door, but already his vision was fading, so he settled for lying on his side against the wall, hopefully propped up well enough to not roll on his back when he passed out.

 

...

 

“Hey.”

 

“C’mon, man.”

 

“Time to wake up.”

 

Kakashi groaned, cracking one eye open. 

 

“There you are. Thought I’d lost you for a moment there.”

 

The yellow walls. That’s right. He wasn’t home. Immediately, he shook off the hands that were on him and sat up, regretting it when a wave of nausea rocked his skull. 

 

“Hey, take it easy.” 

 

There was a man beside him, but Kakashi’s mind was still too fuzzy to process much yet. 

 

“You look like you’re going to puke.”

 

And he was. He reached for the bucket he remembered making the acquaintance of earlier. In his haze, he couldn’t find it, but it was handed to him in time to avoid any unfortunate incidents.

 

Kakashi sighed in the bucket. Everything still spun and he was far from sober yet. At last, the thought crossed his mind to check who his company was. Though he lacked the metal frame around his face, Kakashi recognized Yamato. 

 

“What happened? Where am I?” 

 

“You’re home,” Yamato said, rubbing his back. “You drank. It’s over now.”

 

“I don’t remember drinking.” 

 

Yamato chuckled and hooked one arm around Kakashi’s torso. “Let’s just get you in the shower. You smell like a distillery.”

 

Kakashi held his protests as Yamato helped him into the bathroom and started the shower for him. While Kakashi considered sleeping on the toilet where he sat, Yamato retrieved fresh clothes and towels that didn’t smell so fresh. 

 

“Just take a shower,” he said, watching Kakashi through the already half-closed door. “I’ll get you some food.”

 

With a shrug, Kakashi obeyed. The warm water did help dissipate some of the fog in his brain, leaving him to wonder how Yamato had even gotten into his apartment. Or why he thought he was allowed to go through his belongings as he just had. Sakura or Naruto might be so bold every once in a while, but never Yamato. But he wasn’t home, was he? He didn’t have grey shower curtains. Or black sweatpants like these. 

 

When he felt sufficiently self-aware, Kakashi stepped out of the bathroom. The apartment was small, as was to be expected of him, but it definitely was not his. Yamato looked at him from the tiny kitchen, nudged in a corner by the exit. He was cleaning dishes from the pile in the sink -- a mess Kakashi would never leave behind. Strangest of all was the compassion in Yamato’s eyes. Like someone had died.

 

“I found some pasta. It’s in the microwave.”

 

Kakashi gave it a sniff, but his nose seemed muted today. 

 

“I’m pretty sure it’s still okay.”

 

With a hum, Kakashi dug in, wishing for nothing more than to end the burning in his throat and stomach. When all of it was gone and he reclined in his chair, it occurred to him that he’d known where to get the fork from without hesitation. Yet, for the life of him, he could not remember having ever been here before.

 

“I suppose you don’t feel up to training today. You should come, though.”

 

“Where?”

 

Yamato paused in his dishwashing, frowning. “What do you mean where?” When Kakashi offered nothing more than a blank face, Yamato continued, “Your father’s dojo?”

 

“My father’s?...”

 

Now clearly worried, Yamato approached him, scrutinizing his face. “Are you… are you okay? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

 

“Just tell Sakura to come by. I’ll survive until then.”

 

“I’m sorry, who?”

 

Kakashi’s stomach sank. Ignoring the flurry of questions Yamato barraged him with, Kakashi stood up and stepped outside his apartment, only to have the wind knocked out of him. What was this place? He’d never seen anything like this sea of concrete, lights and cables. Not only was he not home, he wasn’t in Konoha. Or even the same continent. 

 

A genjutsu. Perhaps he had been attacked. He tried to dispel it, but nothing happened. If it was an illusion, it was one unlike anything he’d ever heard of before. He’d been through enough -- and created more than enough -- to know when he was trapped in one. 

 

“Say something!” Yamato pleaded from behind him, desperate. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

 

Frantic, Kakashi grabbed Yamato’s arm and shoved his sleeve up above his elbow. He knew there were scars there, yet he found none. Deaf to Yamato’s voice, Kakashi hurried back in the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. His reflection showed a smooth face, free of scars. Though his hair was grey, the shade was different and hints of its former black coloration remained. 

 

They were different people. Somehow.

 

At last, Yamato’s voice reached him once more. “Yamato. Calm down.”

 

“Calm down?” Yamato half-shouted, arms flying at his side. “Then tell me what’s up with you!”

 

Kakashi took a moment to gather his thoughts, then sighed. “I think it’s just temporary memory loss.”

 

“Then we need to get you to the hospital -- “

 

“No,” Kakashi said, firm. “I’m fine right here. How about you just help me out a bit instead?”

 

With some hesitation, Yamato conceded.

 

Kakashi prodded Yamato as he could, trying his best to appear as nothing more than a minor lunatic -- a reputation he was already somewhat accustomed to. Yamato confirmed date and location for him, which, while the same in name, were different. Fall was much warmer in Konoha than here. He owned his apartment and the bookshop below it, worked there six days a week, and also owned the dojo his father had passed on to him after his death. Yamato ran it in his stead. 

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Yamato asked again, wringing his hands. “Amnesia… That’s not…”

 

“I was just pulling your leg.”

 

Yamato’s face fell. “You -- what?”

 

Kakashi only offered his trademark smile, though it felt rather naked without his mask. 

 

“That’s not funny. At all.”

 

“Sorry,” Kakashi said, holding his hands up in silent apology. “I couldn’t help myself.”

 

For a while, Yamato sat still, lips pursed. Finally, he spoke in clipped tones. “As much as I’d like to continue this conversation, I have a class to teach this evening.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Kakashi followed him to the door, where Yamato hesitated, looking Kakashi in the eye.

 

“I meant it, you know,” he said. “You should come to the dojo. We haven’t sparred in a while… I’m sure you’d make a few happy faces if you did, too.”

 

“Maybe next time,” Kakashi said, an impatient hand on the door. “I’m rather hung over today.”

 

“Yeah, you are.” Yamato sighed and finally stepped outside. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

With Yamato finally on his way, Kakashi shut the door and turned towards his apartment. There was work to be done -- whether it was about the filth surrounding him or the mystery of it all.

 

…

 

Though he had considered cleaning his living quarters to satisfaction first, Kakashi had rejected the idea in favor of finding any information he could. In the pants he’d slept in, he found his wallet. There was money inside of it. Even without knowing these bills’ worth, he knew it was a decent amount -- the same way he knew how to read the name -- Kobayashi --  on his identification even though he’d never seen it before. 

 

“What is this?” 

 

Brows knit together and teeth grinding, Kakashi went through the rest of the wallet. He kept a card of the bookshop he owned as well as one of the dojo’s, bank cards, and a picture of a boy. He wore the kendo outfit and was posed to battle; he didn’t seem to be aware of the camera. Kakashi checked the back of it, finding it to be dated seven years earlier. He brushed the tips of his fingers against the plastic that protected the picture. Whoever this boy was, whoever  _ he _ was cared deeply for him.

 

With nothing more to be found in the wallet, Kakashi checked the next pocket and retrieved a strange device he’d never seen before. His fingers automatically reached to tap the screen, so he allowed them. His instincts led him well up to now and didn’t betray him yet -- the screen lit up. It reminded him of the computers he sometimes saw in the hospital or the Hokage’s tower, though he’d never used one for himself. He didn’t recall anyone touching their screens either. Kakashi found it relatively easy to navigate. When he didn’t have inkling of what an icon might be, it was made clear by pressing it. Before long, he figured it must be a phone of sorts. It had an address book, of which a name stuck out like lightning in the sky: Obito. 

 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Kakashi shoved the phone in his pocket. He would look into it later. Instead, he searched his bedroom, but save for a laptop, dirty clothes and books, he found little of interest. 

 

Satisfied with his search, Kakashi left the apartment, only to be greeted by a cat.

 

“Hey there, Pumpkin,” he said, surprising himself. Was this his cat? “Is that your name?” 

 

Pumpkin, either uncaring or agreeing, meowed loudly and rubbed against his legs. Kakashi spared a moment to stroke its scruffy black and orange fur. When he tried to leave, Pumpkin followed, meowing after him. Figuring it must be hungry, he returned inside. Inside a cupboard, he found a bag of food, but no dedicated bowl. Pumpkin found it by himself -- his arm was flailing at it, hidden under the counter. 

 

With the cat fed and petted, Kakashi left. 

 

Under the apartment, he found the bookstore and unlocked it with no trouble. Kakashi could only chuckle at its appearance. Old, dusty and mismatched. This store just might be his perfect match. He walked through the aisles, reading the titles of various books but recognizing none. Some of them caught his attention, though he couldn’t tell if it was because of their titles or if Kobayashi might have read them before. Under the desk where he worked, he found a safe. This, too, he knew how to unlock, though it took a few tries. There was little of interest in it. Some money, but mostly bills and the bookkeeping for the store -- which he found didn’t make much in contrast to the expenses. The entries went back thirteen years and were all written by his own hand.

 

With nothing more to find in the shop, Kakashi opted for a walk. The city was unrecognizable to his brain, but his feet led him without worry. He must have lived here a long time, as seemed to confirm the ledger in his shop. During a short walk, he found a few stray cats, and even more convenience stores with bright banners. He stopped in one of them for a drink, where he spent much longer checking the prices of goods than actually choosing a drink. It confirmed to amount of money in his wallet to be absurd. 

 

The city as a whole reminded him of Otafuku Gai -- bright and lively, chock full of businesses of all kinds and flavors. It was quieter, though, and cleaner. Even with the pedestrian streets filled to the brim, he felt rather at peace. The other streets, though, he enjoyed less; they were filled with vehicles he’d never seen the likes of before. Like the cargo trains that supplied Konoha, but bite-sized and colorful. Some were much bigger and stopped every few blocks where people waited to board. He considered riding one, but decided against it. Passengers were orderly and aware of the boarding procedure and he wasn’t. 

 

By the time his phone showed nine in the evening -- useful little thing, it was -- Kakashi’s stomach was rumbling, so he headed towards home. The alcohol had finally worn off, leaving behind only a headache. A few blocks from his shop, Kakashi stopped to take a look at a restaurant that felt somehow familiar. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall place that served noodles and rice. With a shrug, Kakashi entered it. Any food would be good food.

 

“Kakashi!” the girl at the till called, bright smile on her bubbly face. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t see you tonight!”

 

Kakashi smiled politely. “I have a bad habit of being late.”

 

“So the usual?” she said, already scribbling something down on a piece of paper.

 

Kakashi nodded. The girl -- Nami, by her nametag -- gave the slip of paper to the cook and turned back to Kakashi, leaning forward on the counter.

 

“I finish my shift soon, you know,” she said, winking. She looked young enough, maybe a tad younger than his students, so her early twenties. Too young to be this flirty with him. “Wanna wait for me?”

 

“Sure.”

 

He took a seat close to her, watching amused the way she posed for him as they made small talk. She asked about Pumpkin the same way Sakura asked after his ninken, excited and secretly pleading for a visit. She talked of school and how difficult it was, whatever she studied. She disliked one of her teachers very much, but still enjoyed learning all she could about psychology. She missed her brother, gone on a business trip overseas with their father, very much.

 

At last, she served him his food. Curry, along with a bottle of sake. He and Kobayashi had similar tastes in food. Nami’s monologue continued seamlessly. Peace wouldn’t be part of his dinner tonight, unfortunately. Kakashi hummed or nodded politely in between bites, but he’d mostly tuned her out. Kobayashi and Nami were familiar enough, he could deduce, but he couldn’t quite guess whether or not they were dating.

 

“You know, I was thinking of signing up for a class at your school.”

 

Interest piqued, Kakashi looked up from his food. “What kind?”

 

“What kind do  _ you _ teach?” 

 

Kakashi chuckled. It had been a long time since he’d received this kind of attention from young women -- and when he’d been young enough to receive it, he hadn’t cared for it. “None. My friend does.”

 

“Why don’t you teach there?” she asked, a pout on her red lips. “I know you’re good. I saw you in the newspaper.”

 

Kakashi shrugged in response. “Not my thing.”

 

“Well, what would you recommend?” 

 

A simple look at Nami revealed her body knew no sort of training whatsoever. She was thin, but lacked any muscle mass -- a trend as popular here as it was with civilian women in Konoha. “When are you done with school tomorrow?” 

 

“Six.” She perked up, a wider smile on her lips. “I’ll text you the address. Will I get my own private class?”

 

“No,” he said, crossing his legs and reclining in his chair now that his plate was empty. Nami cleared the table quickly. “We’ll go and figure out what will fit you best.”

 

“Cool. I can’t wait!” After a glance at the clock, she locked the door of the shop. “I’m just gonna finish up and change, alright?”

 

“Alright.”

 

Kakashi waited patiently where he sat, like a good boy. When his phone vibrated and rang in his pocket, he fished it out. New message, the screen said. A tap on it and the message -- and image -- took over the screen. Kakashi coughed in his fist. Well,  _ she _ wasn’t a good girl. The picture featured her rear and panties. Another message followed.  _ I decided on red today! (heart). _ Dating or not, she certainly wasn’t just a friend. He scrolled up in the messages, concluding this was what she had meant by text. She had texted him first several months ago, saying she’d gotten his number from a friend and that she was hoping he could help her out. The messages were always short, and a few months in, the pictures began. Frowning, Kakashi skimmed the rest of them. They communicated every week or two; she always instigated. All of it was limited either to the details of meeting up or suggestive pictures. It was rather odd, but what did he know of how people texted?

 

“What are you staring at like that?” Nami teased when she returned. “Anything interesting?”

 

“Nothing at all. Let’s get going.”

 

Outside, Nami walked at his side, though she kept a comfortable distance. She talked all the while, just as she had done in the restaurant, but Kakashi didn’t mind it. It filled the space between them and distracted him from the whirlwind in his head. He’d been here over twelve hours already and no end was in sight. He could only gather whatever information he could -- and Nami liked to spout it about everything she saw. She’d taken this train to go on a vacation with her friends last year, or she really liked this boutique, or that street scared her because there was always a dog to bark at her. 

 

At some point, she stopped at a loud and far too well lit shop, cooing in awe at the plush animals trapped inside machines. 

 

“I like this one so much!” she said, pointing at a happy cat. “Isn’t it cute?”

 

And she looked back at him, the same stars in her eyes as when she’d inquired about Pumpkin. Nami liked cats, but that wasn’t the only thing he could tell; there was intent behind this question as well, and it was rather universal woman talk for  _ why don’t you get this for me? _ A few imaginary coins weren’t going to bankrupt him, so Kakashi obliged. It was more trouble than anticipated to catch the cat, not unlike the rigged games in Otafuku, but soon it was in Nami’s hands and she thanked him profusely, rubbing up against his side just like a cat.

 

It didn’t occur to him that they were headed to his apartment until the shop came into sight. Following Nami was simpler, so he hadn’t spared it much thought. She jogged up the stairs to his balcony and waited for him to open the door for her. She laughed at his mess, chastising him, but she expected it. Kakashi apologized anyway. Nami walked about comfortably; she’d been here often. So often, in fact, that she found a box tucked away under his sink that he hadn’t noticed. He thought to scold her for touching his things so, but he held his tongue. From the box she retrieved a few things; paper, matches, what resembled the contents of Asuma’s evening _ cigarettes _ , and a bag of pills. 

 

“We’re having a big party next week for the long weekend, so my friends asked me to get some extra… That’s fine, right?” she asked, setting aside a number of pills. “I’ve got the money right now.”

 

“No trouble at all.”

 

That explained Nami’s interest in him. She pulled bills from her wallet and laid them on the counter. And that explained the money in his wallet. They agreed on the price and Nami hid the pills and the cigarettes she’d rolled, save for one. Kakashi went to sit on his bed. The pounding in his head had returned. After she’d lit the cigarette, she took a long drag from it and sighed. 

 

“I wish it was more acceptable to smoke weed,” she sighed, dropping next to him on the bed. “It would make school easier. Less stressful.”

 

Kakashi only hummed. He thought she would leave now, but instead she handed him the cigarette and nodded at his laptop, asking if he didn’t mind if she chose the movie tonight. She’d heard about this great one from a friend. Kakashi gave the laptop to her and watched her set everything up. When he didn’t smoke, she questioned him, so Kakashi did as she had. If she had taken it first, then it was unlikely to be poisoned. The movie was a welcome distraction when Nami slipped out of her skirt and jacket and joined him under the blanket. When the movie was over and there were no more distractions, Nami rubbed her rear against his crotch, reaching for one of his hands to slip it into her panties. She asked if everything was alright when he showed little interest, to which Kakashi answered all was fine. He was just a bit tired. A bit of encouragement was all she needed, it seemed. She laid him on his back and climbed on top of him, going about whatever routine her and Kobayashi had. 

 

Truly, Kakashi wanted nothing more than to sleep and forget all of this. To wake up and for everything to be normal. But because it was easier to keep his mouth shut, he said nothing when she took his erection in her mouth or rolled a condom on it. When he finally came, she laid at his side. 

 

“You know,” she said, already sleepy, “you’re pretty nice for a man who sells drugs.”

 

Kakashi said nothing. He was nice enough that she was comfortable spending the night here. With no energy to argue, and likely mellowed by the cigarette, Kakashi let her. He’d dragged himself through stickier situations and come out alive.

 

…

 

Sat reclined as far back as he could, Kakashi draped an arm over his eyes. He would rather his shop had no window, but he supposed it wasn’t the kind of renovation choice he could currently make. It would be bad marketing, too, probably. Such matters were unimportant to his pounding head. 

 

That morning, he’d woken to Nami showering while he remained in bed. Waking had been brutal; fever burned his skin and nausea rolled his stomach. He reached inside his night table and drank from the bottle he retrieved, only to cough when he finally tasted the liquid. He’d never liked vodka very much, but Kobayashi certainly seemed fond of it. 

 

So fond of it, in fact, that the water bottle he thought he’d found in his shop was no water bottle. Perhaps that was why he favored it, being indistinguishable from water at first glance. Certainly not at first taste. All morning, Kakashi sipped from the bottle, wishing his pain away. Though he’d never fallen victim to it himself, he could recognize the signs. Alcohol abuse wasn’t uncommon in his line of work and he’d seen the effects of withdrawal.

 

Though he was glad for the relief, Kakashi didn’t welcome the haze that came with it. It was the single reason he’d never taken to alcohol; a clear mind could be the difference between dead comrades and live comrades at any second. Kobayashi, though, did not live this kind of life, and as such didn’t mind being drunk at eleven in the morning.

 

When the bell above his door rang, Kakashi shut his eyes. He’d had no customer yet, and wished it would have remained so. 

 

“So I’m not even worth a hello now?”

 

Kakashi looked from under his arm and froze. Tsunade stood before him. Immediately, he sat straighter and refrained from staring at the many wrinkles that lined her face. Out of all the things to get the cogs turning, it was this. 

 

“I was trying to have a nap.”

 

In the palm of his hand, he tried to gather his chakra, to no avail. Had it been blocked, somehow? Or did Kobayashi simply not possess it? Now it was clear why he felt so noseblind.

 

“I’ve got places to be, so snap out of it,” she said, harsh as ever. “You’d be surprised how early the loan sharks come knocking at your door.”

 

“Eleven is early?” Kakashi teased. “It’s almost midday.”

 

Tsunade huffed and slammed the box on his desk. “Once a brat, always a brat.”

 

Kakashi watched in silence as Tsunade opened the box and showed him its contents. For the most part, it was more of everything that Nami had taken from his own box the previous night. A few sets of pills were different, though.

 

To one of those, Tsunade pointed, saying, “These are for that girl of yours. It should help lessen the shakes and nausea. She might recognize them, though. But what can I say, that plan was shit to begin with.”

 

“What plan?”

 

Tsunade scoffed, a hand on her hip. “What is it now? You can’t be bothered to remember the favors you ask of me?” When Kakashi offered no response, she shook her head. “Whatever. Do what you want with those, so long as you pay me.”

 

Kakashi took out his wallet, but stared at the bills. “How much do I owe you already?”

 

When the wallet was snatched from his hands and bills from it, Kakashi felt no surprise. Wherever he was, these people that resembled those he knew did so in more than appearance. Tsunade threw the wallet back at him and he could not find it within himself to react. All he wanted was a warm bed and to forget he existed. Or to wake up where such odd things did not happen.

 

“Hey.”

 

Tsunade snapped her fingers, but he ignored it. She walked around the counter to him, pinching his chin between two fingers so she could get a good look at him.

 

“You look pitiful,” she huffed, pulling his eyelids down. “Positively awful.”

 

“You’re not helping.” He tried to pull away, but Tsunade didn’t allow it.

 

“When’s the last time?” she asked, her tone now distinctly doctor-like. 

 

Kakashi shrugged and nodded at his bottle.

 

“I know you’ve got plenty of demons, but that’s not the one I’m referring to.” For a moment, she waited for an answer, but when he didn’t offer one, she sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Boy, if you’re trying to quit, you need to tell me. I can make it easier on you. Alcohol or the pills. I know your mother thinks I’m the devil incarnate, but I’m not.”

 

Kakashi pinched the bridge of his nose. So sleeping with young girls and alcohol weren’t Kobayashi’s only indiscretions. “What were they for? Those pills for the girl.”

 

“To make quitting easier,” Tsunade said, then softly added, “or less painful, at the very least.”

 

“Tell me how to use them.”

 

If he was stuck in this body, it wouldn’t be on anyone’s terms but his own.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

For the rest of the day, Kakashi remained glued to his chair, save for a quick trip to the convenience store for much, much needed food and actual water. Tsunade had spent a while with him, places to be conveniently forgotten. She’d told him what to do and how to do it precisely and left with the entire plan written down in his phone. To call her, at any time, if he felt he needed it. It had all been surreal to Kakashi -- one day, he was a normal, semi well adjusted ninja, and the next some alcoholic drug user and reseller who spent time with school-aged girls. He wished he could say he was appalled, but he wasn’t. Not really.

 

The Great Copy Nin, hah. What a joke he’d always been.

 

At the very least, his shop offered solace. Quiet, dark and lonely solace. On the door, he could see the opening hours. From ten to five every day but Sunday. A look at his phone revealed it was only half past one, so he had quite a while to go yet. Playing with the gadget in his hands, Kakashi stared at it. He hadn’t searched it thoroughly yet, but he dreaded it. What else would he find?

 

Regardless, he clenched his jaw and got to work. The sooner it was over, the better. If anything, maybe this thing held the key to making his way back to his own life. 

 

He set the phone to his ear and held his breath as it rang.

 

“Hello?”

 

It really was -- Obito’s voice, just as it been during the war. 

 

“Kakashi? Are you there?”

 

“Yes,” he finally said. “I thought I’d give you a call.”

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

“Just peachy,”  Kakashi chuckled, his throat so dry he wasn’t sure if he spoke clearly at all. “I just thought I’d call.”

 

There was silence on the other end for a moment. 

 

“Kakashi,” Obito said, barely above a whisper. “You haven’t answered my calls in a year. Why call now?”

 

Kakashi’s stomach sank. For his entire life, he’d imagined that if he could have  _ somehow _ saved Obito and Rin, they would have been like family. But it wasn’t so simple, was it? They’d only been children when they died.

 

“Look, I know what I said was…” Obito paused. Kakashi could hear him breathing. “I know I was harsh. I had to be. I…”

 

“Can we meet? At my shop?”

 

Again, Obito hesitated. “I’m sorry, Kakashi. I can’t do it. We can talk, if you like, but… You’re not… you’re not sober, are you?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi said, pressing his palm to his forehead. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

 

“No -- no, don’t hang up. I haven’t heard from you in so long, just… please, don’t hang up. Are you okay?”

 

“I’ll be fine. I just need to find a way out.”

 

After another long pause, Obito took a shaky breath. “Did you talk to Tsunade?”

 

“I did.”

 

“That’s good, that’s good,” Obito breathed. “That’s a good start, right? Just listen to her. She knows what she’s doing, yeah? She’s been through it, too. She’ll know how to help you.”

 

What kind of a world was this? Kakashi wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

 

“Listen, I can’t come see you. Not yet. When you’re better, though… I’ll come see you. I’m sure I can convince Rin that it would be for the best.”

 

“Is she doing well?” Kakashi rubbed his sleeve against his eyes. Could they really be alive?

 

“Yes, she is,” Obito said, his tone lighter. “She finished her doctorate, you know. I couldn’t be prouder of her.”

 

“That’s fantastic.”

 

There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he didn’t dare do. He feared if he said too much, revealed how little he knew, that Obito would hang up.

 

“Mari started kindergarten this year, too. She’s growing up so fast.” Kakashi couldn’t speak a word, but Obito soon cut the silence. “I’ll send you a picture, if you like?”

 

“That would be lovely.”

 

And Obito did just that. Like Nami’s picture, the picture Obito sent appeared on his phone. Mari was a little girl with black hair -- and brown eyes just like Rin’s. She looked happy.

 

“She’s cute, huh?” Obito laughed. “Good thing she takes after her mother.”

 

“She is.”

 

“Listen,” Obito said, “I… I’m at work, so I have to go. But I’m glad you called, okay? I’d like to talk again.”

 

“Wait -- tell me…” Kakashi sucked in a sharp breath. He laughed. “I’m going to sound crazy, but everything is so foggy lately. I did something, didn’t I?”

 

Obito took a long time to answer and Kakashi could already feel the weight of his mistakes on his shoulders -- it was such a familiar feeling. “Yes. Yes, you did.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Obito,” Kakashi said. “I wish I could make everything right.”

 

“I…” Obito sighed. “I understand, Kakashi. I do too. Just… get better, then maybe we can work on it, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I’m sorry, but I have to hang up now. We’ll talk again.”

 

Kakashi nodded and hung up. Now that Obito’s voice was gone, Kakashi could breathe better. He could remember that this was not real -- this wasn’t his life. From under the counter, he retrieved some of the pills Tsunade had left him with. She had wanted to take them, but Kakashi had refused. He didn’t even know why -- just like he didn’t know why they were so tempting right now -- but he couldn’t let them go. He knew he sold them, so he likely needed the money. He threw them back in the box, disgusted for even entertaining the idea that he could just  _ try _ them. 

 

With a huff, he returned his attention to the phone. His search had barely just begun. Surely there would be more to find. His address book was near empty and he recognized no others, so he moved on to his messages. His conversations with Obito were sparse and few and far between, until the eleventh of November two years ago, where Obito had begun sending him many messages, but then died down. He was worried. He wanted to help Kakashi through this. Whatever had happened, Kakashi didn’t care to know. He’d lived one life of hardships already; he didn’t need a second. There were a few messages from numbers without names, all to arrange meetings. All about the drugs, Kakashi assumed. Then there were Nami’s messages, which were more frequent and regular than all the rest. Last of all, there remained one last number with which he communicated with. No name was connected to it, but the messages began a little less than a year back and ended two days before. It seemed to be a customer of the bookshop. Why anyone needed to announce when and which book they would come and buy was beyond him, but he supposed they all had their quirks.

 

Next, he checked the pictures. There was an embarrassing amount of pictures of Pumpkin, but it wasn’t what caught his attention. There were many of Nami, but also of some of girls before Nami, all in various states of undress and in his apartment. He had connected only with Nami, it seemed. In the videos, he found a single file, which he played. As soon as it started, he lowered the volume. He was having sex with a girl. He couldn’t pick out any identifying features besides the scar on her shoulder and wisps of blonde hair. As if she hadn’t wanted it there, he hid her face from the camera. Still, she moaned and sighed to climax. He wore no condom with her, he noticed, and wondered if he shouldn’t pay a visit to Sakura -- only, Yamato hadn’t recognized her name, so he he likely didn’t know her here. 

 

There were no mentions of Sasuke and Naruto, either. 

 

For the rest of the afternoon, he dug into the phone, finding various things of interest, such as the internet. He didn’t quite grasp the concept, but it seemed infinitely useful. He could search for almost any information and find a great deal on it. He searched for his team first, of course, but only found Naruto, who had kept both his first and last name. He was a famous athlete, quite unsurprisingly. Both Sasuke and Sakura seemed to sport different names, so there was nothing to find on them. His next best find was called Facebook. Though his own file on the program was rather useless, he was certain it would come in handy sooner or later. He found Obito there easily -- one of the only contacts listed under friends -- and in Obito’s friends, he found many more familiar faces. These people like to publicly document their life, odd as it was to Kakashi. What had happened to privacy? He found nothing useful there, but much entertaining drivel, and spent entirely too long browsing people’s diaries. 

 

When Nami’s text interrupted his leisurely privacy invasion, Kakashi realized it was already five. She had texted him an address as promised, but he realized he had no idea how he would reach it. Thankfully, his phone had an icon named  _ map _ . Even better, he discovered, he could input coordinates and received a detailed explanation of the path to take. It was close enough to walk to, though it take a while. He preferred that to the bus alternative, which he hadn’t quite worked out yet. Perhaps he could use the internet to figure it out later.

 

After having emptied the last of his bottle, he went on his way. 

 

Once there, he stood in front of a small coffeeshop. Nami hadn’t given him the address to her school, but rather this place. Subtle or not, he understood the message clearly. A cursory check of his phone showed the date and time in big letters: November twelfth, thirteen minutes to six. He waited inside, sipping a strong coffee he hoped would minimally mask the smell of the vodka. She was late, but only by a few minutes. She asked to get some food before they went on their way, if he didn’t mind, because she hadn’t had a chance to eat since lunch. When the bill came, she made no move to pay. The expectation was clear. He paid without complaint, but took mental note to cut ties with her if this went on. 

 

On their way to the dojo, Nami was talkative again. She thanked him for dinner and rarely took her eyes off him. They rode an underground train to the dojo and he followed her lead closely. It was all rather simple; scan a card and board. Crowded as the train was, they had to stand close together. There, she held his hand for a time. Kakashi hardly knew what to make of it. He’d heard of various types of profitable relationships, but he wasn’t aware which he was supposed to act out for the time being. If he leaned too close to her, she would become visibly uncomfortable. When the crowd thinned, she let go of his hand. 

 

Once at the dojo, Nami fell quiet, falling behind him rather than at his side. He would give her a tour, he said, but he should rather say he’d be giving himself a tour. At the entrance, he found several newspaper clippings and pictures. Several of his father, founder of the dojo, some of himself, and the rest varied between four faces. Yamato was among them, praised for his teaching skills, but the face that truly caught his eye was that of Minato. He, too, was alive here, lest he had died in the few years since the article’s publication. 

 

“Wow,” Nami sighed from around his shoulder. “I knew you were kinda famous, but I didn’t know this school had such a great reputation.”

 

Kakashi only hummed and resumed his walk. The halls were long and narrow, much like those of his childhood home. All classes were rather open, separated from each other only by paper walls. No doors were closed, allowing passersby to peek inside. Most of them Kakashi could teach himself, while some were of styles unknown to him. In one room, they found Yamato teaching taijutsu. Because Yamato had noticed him right away, Kakashi didn’t try to flee. Yamato instructed his class to practice the move he had been showing them and joined Kakashi outside.

 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you to -- ah, and you came with someone.”

 

At the sight of Nami, Yamato gave a half-hearted smile. Kakashi returned a full smile. “This is Nami.”

 

“Hi!” Nami greeted, far more cheerful than them. “I’ve seen your picture on the wall at the entrance!”

 

Yamato chuckled, scratching his chin. “Ah, yes. It is there.”

 

Silence followed. Yamato glanced between the two of them, unsure who he should be speaking to, but Nami hurried to fill the void as she was perfectly proficient at such a skill. “Since I’ve heard about Kakashi’s school, I’ve been itching to try a class. But he tells me he doesn’t teach.”

 

Yamato nodded. “Not now, he doesn’t. He used to, though. What kind of class were you looking for?”

 

Nami gave a great shrug. “I was hoping someone could help me choose. Everything looks interesting, but I don’t really know anything about them.”

 

“I see,” Yamato said, glancing back at his class. “I assume my friend hasn’t been much help?”

 

“Nope,” Nami laughed. “Not at all.”

 

Chuckling, Yamato nodded. “Very much like him. How about I meet you two at the entrance in fifteen minutes? I’ll be done with class then.”

 

“Sounds perfect,” Kakashi cut in, leading Nami away. “I’ll show her around until then.”

 

After a moment of walking in silence, Nami looked up to him, timid smile on her lips. “You really don’t talk much about yourself, you know?”

 

“Don’t I?”

 

She nudged him with her elbow, clucking her tongue. “If I don’t talk, you just don’t say anything.”

 

“I suppose I’m not a very interesting man.”

 

Nami hummed, clasping her hands behind her back. “Maybe.”

 

When he caught a glimpse of Naruto’s sunny hair, Kakashi stopped. Minato was inside one of the rooms, teaching an advanced class. This time, Kakashi made sure to remain unnoticed. Nami stood behind him, quiet, peeking from his side. Minato, like Tsunade, had aged drastically. Natural as it was, Kakashi’s brain rejected the image fiercely. After twenty-five years of staring at the same picture of him, Kakashi couldn’t imagine his mentor would ever look any different, yet here he was, an old man. 

 

Then, he remembered to breathe, and walked past when he could go unnoticed. Nami trailed behind him, trying to watch a little longer.

 

“You know him?” she asked as they walked. “The man with the blond hair?”

 

“He’s a friend of my father.”

 

Nami hummed and followed him back to the entrance. Yamato joined them soon after, carrying a tray of tea. 

 

“I’m sorry for the wait.”

 

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” Nami said, before Kakashi could even try to speak. “I had fun looking around.”

 

“So, um, how did you two meet?” Yamato asked, hiding behind his cup. “I don’t believe Kakashi has ever mentioned you.”

 

Nami laughed, toying with her hair. “Of course he hasn’t. Why am I not surprised? We met at his bookstore, actually. I went there often to buy books for school. He suggested a class here when I said I was looking for something to fill the evenings, so here we are.”

 

“How nice,” Yamato said, though Kakashi could tell he was lying through his teeth -- and so was Nami, actually. “I’m sure we’ll find a class you’ll enjoy.”

 

They went back and forth for a while, until Nami finally settled on a kendo class. Yamato sent her to the receptionist to start the paperwork while he pulled Kakashi aside.

 

“Who is she?” he whispered, eyes wide. “She’s half your age.”

 

“She told you.” Kakashi shrugged. “A customer.”

 

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” Yamato frowned, staring down at his shoes for a moment. “We’re like brothers you and I. I can tell when you’re lying.”

 

Kakashi crossed him arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall. “So what are you really asking, then?”

 

“She’s not just a friend or customer, is she?”

 

Kakashi shook his head and Yamato deflated before him, looking like he had a thousand words to say but none he could settle on. “Listen,” he finally said. “I’ve been nothing but supportive. I’ll always be. But you can’t mix this and the school. You just can’t.”

 

“She just wants to take a class,” Kakashi said. “She’ll probably drop it in a matter of weeks. Am I supposed to forbid her from taking one here?”

 

Yamato sighed. “I suppose not…”

 

“Kakashi. I thought I saw you.”

 

Kakashi straightened and froze at the sound of Minato’s voice.

 

“Don’t look so frightened,” Minato laughed. Then, he put his hands on Kakashi’s shoulders and turned him around to face him. “You could never stop slouching, could you?”

 

Kakashi stood straight, jaw clenched so hard he could hardly swallow. He’d never stood face to face like this with Minato, he realized -- he’d always been much too short. Yamato made himself scarce, saying he had to help Nami with her registration. 

 

“It’s been so long,” Minato said, dropping his hands down Kakashi’s arms until they returned to his sides. “How have you been doing?”

 

So long -- he didn’t realize how long. Twenty five years. There was so much Kakashi wished he could say. 

 

Minato smiled, a sad smile Kakashi had seen often, for he disappointed his teacher often. “I see.”

 

“Minato-sensei, I…”

 

“Won’t you spar with me?” Minato said, nodding towards the hall. “I want to see if you’ve kept up your training.”

 

Had he? What was this body capable of without even chakra? Kakashi followed Minato, silent. When they were inside Minato’s classroom, Minato assumed his fighting stance, then motioned for Kakashi to attack him. It was no surprise when he was sent to the ground, but the pain in his abdomen when Minato struck -- it told a lengthy story of how weak he was.

 

Kakashi rolled onto his knees, gasping for air. Minato was patient, throwing no hits until Kakashi recovered. He tried, and tried, but his body was slow, weighed down further by the alcohol. Minato held nothing back; when had he ever? If Kakashi was to be a bloody mess by the end of it, then it was deserved. It was beyond humiliating, but Kakashi took the punches in silence. 

 

At last, Minato pinned him down, aiming a punch for his face. But he stopped, fist in mid air. Minato didn’t need to strike him. The look in his eyes could fracture him in ways no physical attack ever could.

 

When Kakashi thought he just might die under the weight of it all, Minato stood and offered him a hand. “Stand up, Kakashi.”

 

Swallowing his pain, Kakashi took his hand and stood.

 

“You can always stand up again, Kakashi,” Minato said, squeezing his shoulder. “Always. Do you understand me?”

 

Kakashi nodded. “Yes, sensei.”

 

“I’ll see you every Thursday at nine.” 

 

Kakashi nodded again, stiff from pain. “Yes, sensei.”

 

“Good,” Minato said, finally offering a smile. “You’ve missed training for far too long.”

 

Apologies were on the tip of Kakashi’s tongue, but he said no words. There was nothing he could say. 

 

At the feel of Minato’s hand on his cheek, Kakashi looked back up. Minato’s eyes were softer, some scolding still left in them, but affectionate. 

 

“You lost a part of yourself when your father died,” Minato began, quiet, “and so did I. Your protégé took the rest with him, didn’t he?”

 

Kobayashi had failed as a teacher too, then. Kakashi wished he hadn’t -- maybe then he wouldn’t feel like he  _ was _ Kobayashi. 

 

“Those parts of you,” Minato continued, tipping Kakashi’s chin up to look him in the eye. “They don’t die with those people. They’re still in there.”

 

But Kakashi disagreed -- he had killed the arrogant child he was when they died. 

 

“Now,” Minato said, lighter, a smile on his lips. “Why don’t you go before your mother catches a glimpse of you? It will do her no good to see you like this.”

 

Kakashi nodded and bowed deeply. 

 

“I’ll see you Thursday, Kakashi.”

 

Kakashi watched Minato’s back as he left, wanting more than anything to keep him here even a moment longer. For decades, he had imagined this reunion. He had thought he would be dead, of course, and maybe he was. It mattered little -- not when he could finally see Minato in the flesh again.

 

It him then -- Tsunade had mentioned her, but he had paid it no mind. Now that Minato also spoke of her, it couldn’t be ignored. His mother was alive. The woman he’d never met. 

 

Heart constricting in his chest, Kakashi hurried to the entrance. Nami sat there with Yamato, waiting for him. Before he returned to her, Kakashi stopped to tear one of the newspaper clippings from the wall. 

 

“Oh, there you are,” Nami laughed, forcing a smile. “I thought I’d have to go back all by myself, and at this hour!”

 

“Let’s get going, then.”

 

Yamato stood up with Nami and shook her hand. They exchanged niceties and Yamato said he would see her in his next class. 

 

On the subway, Nami sat by him, quiet this time. She threw him a glance every now and then, but did little more than stare at the window across from her and worry her lip. She followed him all the way home and Kakashi said nothing. He wanted her gone, but she stayed.

 

Inside his apartment, Kakashi was faced with the filth he left behind. He picked up a t-shirt, and then pants and a towel and whatever he could get his hands on. He owned no hamper so he threw them in a bag. For a time, Nami watched him, standing in the corner, then she went to the sink and began washing dishes, just like Yamato had.

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Kakashi said. “You can go home.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Nami said.

 

…

 

Kakashi glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight already. Nami sat at his side. By now, he couldn’t tell whether she was asleep or awake. Their shoulders brushed together, warmer than the heat from the dryer behind them. When his apartment was presentable enough, they had come here to wash the clothes and bedding. Nami had sat with him, patient, and he watched as she spent more than an hour on her phone. 

 

Staring down at his shaking hands, Kakashi closed his eyes. He hoped it would steady them, but it didn’t. Tsunade had warned him that while the medication she had brought him would help it wasn’t magic either. He would still have to do the brunt of the work. It reminded him of when he was a child and woke to blood on his hands. He would try to wash it off, but the truth was it was never there to begin with. It had taken years to shake the hallucination. Nami slipped her hand in his, startling him. He turned to look at her. Her eyes were still closed, somewhere between sleep and consciousness.

 

Kakashi fished the newspaper clipping he’d taken from the dojo out of his pocket. It featured a picture of him, staring straight ahead at the camera. Right away, he disliked the picture -- he hated the look in his eyes. Identical to the one he wore as a child. Arrogant beyond belief. The article alleviated none of his repulsion. It spoke highly of his skills, citing several of his victories, but then followed with his flaws. He was rigid, flawless, and ruthless, as said by an adversary he’d broken the leg and arm of. Such flaws drew the praise of his father; he used them to highlight the rigor and high level of his school’s training.

 

Jaw clenched, Kakashi shoved the paper back in his pocket. His father’s words rang false in his mind -- they couldn’t be said by the same great man who had broken a training of high rigor and level to save his friends. It couldn’t be. Yet that man had killed himself over such a choice.

 

At last, the machine beeped. They could go back home with fresh, warm clothes.

 

“I was right, you know,” Nami said when they stepped inside his apartment. Kakashi looked back at her, and she continued, “if I don’t say anything, you don’t talk. You haven’t said a word to me all night long.”

 

She was right, of course -- all he had said to her was to go home. Yet she was still there.

 

“Do you mind if I make myself a drink?”

 

He shook his head. While he stuffed his clothes in the closet, she mixed vodka with whatever else he had in the fridge. Then she came to him, two glasses in hand, offering him one. For a moment, he looked at the drink, unmoving, then accepted it. Nami sat on his bed, so he followed her. They reclined on the wall, legs laid out on the bed and feet dangling above the floor. 

 

“You’ll be tired tomorrow,” Kakashi said. “For school.”

 

“It’s fine,” she said, sipping her drink. “I have a late morning.”

 

And his chest tightened again. He watched her for a time -- she didn’t seem to mind. She was a pretty girl. The type of pretty who shouldn’t need to look twice at someone like him. But she sat at his side, warm like the clothes he’d taken out of the dryer. When he cupped her cheek in his palm, she looked at him, and when he kissed her, she kissed him back. His breath had to be awful, he knew, after a day of drinking nothing but coffee and alcohol, but she showed no sign of revulsion. Even when he put a condom on and thrust into her, Nami encouraged him, thighs pulling him closer. Their drinks sat on the floor, forgotten and still half full. 

 

Then they lied under the still-warm blanket, ready for sleep to take them. Nami reached out and swallowed the rest of her drink before shutting the light off. 

 

In the darkness, with Nami’s back to his chest and their legs tangled, Kakashi stared ahead for a long time. Pumpkin slept on his desk, where he hadn’t had the heart to take the shirt she nested on, purring. Then came Nami’s soft, even breaths as she fell asleep. When they became background noise he no longer heard, there was the sound of the fridge. That, too, he soon stopped hearing, and his hands began shaking again. He tried to focus on the sound of the occasional car driving by, but it wasn’t enough. Careful not to wake her, he reached for his drink on the floor and drank it quickly like she had. The alcohol would drown his mind soon, and he could finally sleep.

 

Tomorrow, he decided, he would wake up and go down to the bookstore. There, he could ignore the rest of the world until this nightmare ended. 


	3. Chapter 3

For the next three months, Kakashi had followed the decision he’d made rigidly; six days a week, from ten to five, he sat in his bookshop and ignored the world. He wished he could say he had done so perfectly, but no, he hadn’t. 

 

Every Sunday evening, he ate where Nami worked. She served him his usual and he listened to her talk. Afterwards, they would walk to his apartment and continue their routine. She would take the same number of pills from his box and they would smoke, watch a movie, have sex, and then sleep. Sometimes, if he was lucky, they would stop somewhere on their way or meet on another day. They would eat, drink, play darts or pool, and he would pay. Every now and then, he bought whatever trinket she asked for. She only handed him money when she took more pills than she usually did. On Thursday evenings, he would meet with Minato for another beating. The more he had drunk that day, the worse it hurt. On Fridays, Yamato would come by. The first time, he had brought groceries and been surprised that the apartment was clean. He brought the groceries again the second time, but Kakashi’s fridge was already stocked. It wasn’t until the seventh time that he stopped; it was on that time that Yamato began smiling in earnest. 

 

Nights were reserved for lying in bed and staring his daily urge in the face. His box called to him. Withdrawal symptoms were strongest then. Without a drink in them, his hands shook, so he usually held one. The nausea and abdominal pain that plagued him would worsen, occasionally progressing into vomiting. He was doing good, Tsunade said when she came by every month, and it would only get better from here. She never commented on the bottle of water he still kept on his desk. The medicine helped and he didn’t want to know how much harder it would be without it.

 

Today, he sat in his shop, book in hand, stealing a sip from the bottle on his desk every now and then. He had taken a liking to borrowing a book from the shelves and spending the entire day with it. Here, too, erotic literature existed. They were no Icha Icha, but they scratched the itch. When someone came looking for a fix, the books made it easier to ignore the pills he sold and the people he sold them to. 

 

Life was just dandy. 

 

His phone rang. Kakashi shut it off mechanically. Half past one. He would look outside now, hoping to see her one more time.

 

And today again, he saw her, pink hair in an elaborate ponytail bobbing up and down as she walked by outside his shop. Every Saturday for the past month, she would appear within the same thirty-minute frame. Kakashi watched her from the corner of his eye, contemplating. The first time she had come, he had locked his empty shop and raced after her. That day, he dared not approach -- not after even Guy had not recognized him. In this world, everything was different yet all too much the same. It was unlikely he was connected to Sakura in any way. So, he had watched her instead. For a few hours, she had sat in a busy park and read a book, until sundown came and she had left. She dressed nothing like the Sakura he knew; she was far too practical to wear such a skirt and carry a purse. Yet, here, she wore makeup that disguised her face so well he would have doubted it was really her if not for the pink hair. Every week, it was different. This Sakura took pride in her appearance and certainly spent a great deal of time and money on it. It was all so eerie. This feeling of knowing who she was, what made her Sakura, but also knowing nothing of her. Most of all it was this that unsettled him. After the park, she had gone to dinner with friends, of which he could recognize Ino only. It had been a long night. This Sakura liked to frequent clubs and arrive home in the wee hours of the morning.

 

This time, she walked into his sight, phone against her ear and laughing. He could wonder who she was talking to, but he could never guess. She sat on the bench on the sidewalk across from his shop, crossing her legs in the same manner he was used to seeing her do. Some habits remained, it seemed, like the way she toyed with her hair.

 

When his phone rang, Kakashi jumped. The caller had blocked their number. Regardless, he answered, but was met with silence. After a few inquiries, he hung up. 

 

With a long sigh, Kakashi searched through his phone once more. His call log went two years back. Until the eleventh of November, it was nearly empty. He had called a car rental company a few days prior and they had called him back a day later, presumably to confirm a rental. Then came the eleventh and the incessant calls from Obito and Rin, which he never seemed to answer. Nothing new to find there.

 

The door opened, ringing the small bell above it, and Kakashi looked up. Sakura walked inside, sparing him a glance and quick hello before she walked down an aisle and out of his view. Did she know him? No, she must simply be polite. It wasn’t unlike her to greet everyone she came across. He hid his bottle under the desk. Heart racing, he waited for her to appear out another aisle. She paid him no mind, focus instead fixed on the dusty books that lined the shelves. 

 

“I can’t decide,” she finally said, two books in hand. “Have you ever read these?”

 

She approached him, showing him both of the books. He knew nothing of them. “I’m afraid not.”

 

Sakura hummed, lips pursed. Then she smiled and put both the books down on the counter. “How about both of them. I don’t have to decide.”

 

Kakashi nodded and entered the price manually on his till, an old thing older the world itself. He had to get her name somehow. While she fished in her purse for her wallet, he hurried to scribble on a business card and handed it to her.

 

“Huh?” Sakura frowned, eyeing the card as if it greatly offended her. “Um… Is this a joke?”

 

“Absolutely not,” Kakashi said. “Fifty percent off your next purchase.”

 

“You must be joking. I bet I’ll come in next time and they’ll laugh at my face when I show this,” Sakura grumbled, still refusing to take the card. “No thanks.”

 

“I’m the owner,” Kakashi insisted. “You won’t see anyone else but me here. I’m trying this new clientele retainment tactic I read about.” Still hesitant, Sakura reached for the card, but Kakashi held onto it. “Would you mind giving me your name and email address in exchange?”

 

“Sure, I suppose.” She took the pen and paper he handed her and wrote. Her handwriting was very much the same he was used to. Amano Suzuka. Not a name in his address book, unfortunately. “Here you go.”

 

“Thank you.” 

 

The rest of the transaction went without a word, for Kakashi had none. He desperately wanted to talk to her, to get her to stay a little longer, but he couldn’t find a way. He’d certainly come across as a creepy old man if he tried. 

 

When he handed her her bag, Sakura smiled at him, biting her bottom lip in the way she did when she wanted something he wasn’t supposed to give her. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything else for me, hm?” 

 

Frown on his face, Kakashi hesitated. Whatever she expected of him, he couldn’t figure it out. “Were you looking for anything else?”

 

“Hand me your phone,” she said, holding out her empty hand expectantly. “Come on.”

 

Half expecting her to run with it, Kakashi did as she asked. She tapped and typed on it with fingers much more nimble than his.

 

“There you go.”

 

Kakashi looked at his phone. She’d created a new file in his address book with her name and phone number. He’d seen this a few times, out and about. People exchanged contact information this way nowadays. 

 

“I should give you mine as well then.”

 

But Sakura only winked at him, holding her purse protectively when he held out his hand. “Nope. No one touches my phone but me.”

 

She wasn’t wrong to refuse, Kakashi had to admit. He’d have used any excuse to search for relevant information before he gave her his number. For a moment, they stood in silence, simply watching each other. 

 

Finally, she flashed him another smile. “Well, I’ll be on my way. Call me sometime, when you want to talk.”

 

Words stuck in his throat, Kakashi watched her leave. Had she thought he was flirting? The Sakura he knew would never react positively to this kind of interaction, not after her infatuation with Sasuke, but how was she here? 

 

Maybe he could find out. Amano Suzuka. A name went much farther here than it did in his world. But even after a thorough search on the internet, Kakashi found nothing of relevance. On Facebook, he found no one matching her. He tried the phone number next, but it awarded him no more information. Leaning back in his chair, Kakashi sighed. Back to square one. 

 

…

 

That evening, Kakashi sat outside. With spring around the corner, the air, though still cool, was finally warming. Yamato took a sip of beer from his bottle. The view from Yamato’s balcony was much nicer than from his own. High in the air as they were, Kakashi enjoyed his first real view of the city. How he missed chakra and scaling buildings as though they were ant hills.

 

“So I told them to fight it out if they wanted to so badly,” Yamato said, a laugh on the tip of his tongue. “They ended up like monkeys on the floor.”

 

Kakashi chuckled. Many times, little Sasuke and Naruto had done the exact same, and Kakashi never intervened. “Do you think they learned their lesson?”

 

“I’d say so.” Yamato nodded. Naruto and Sasuke never had. “The entire class was laughing by the end of it. It’s like when you put two angry people together, they forget everything they’ve ever learned.”

 

“A little public humiliation builds character.”

 

Kakashi finished his beer. Yamato hesitated for a moment. “Do you want another?”

 

It always hung between them -- this uneasiness. Kakashi loathed it. “Sure.”

 

Yamato stood and returned inside. Staring over the roofs, Kakashi sighed. He was sick of the constant buzzing in his head, the slight blurriness of everything, but it was better this way. It was easier to ignore everything else -- like this entire goddamn world and how lifeless Yamato’s apartment felt. Where were all the pictures and plants Yamato liked so much? There was nothing here. Only Yamato’s pampering to his fragile self.

 

“So,” Yamato said, handing him a beer, “there must have been a reason you called me tonight.”

 

“Do I need a reason to visit an old friend?”

 

Yamato gave a half smile. “You never come here.”

 

“Well, some changes don’t hurt,” Kakashi said, shrugging. “Don’t you think?”

 

Almost too enthusiastically, Yamato nodded. “Yes.”

 

“I did meet this very interesting person in my shop today,” Kakashi said. “She gave me her phone number.”

 

“A woman? Is that the change you’re talking about?” Yamato laughed, nudging Kakashi’s knee with his own. “Is she pretty?”

 

“She’s interesting,” Kakashi repeated. “I’ve seen her before, but she didn’t recognize me.”

 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Yamato’s smile spread into a grin and he leaned forward. “Call her already.”

 

Kakashi laughed. It was almost like being twenty again. Yamato would grin this way and then they would get into whatever trouble Yamato could stir. Anything to light their cold hearts. For old times’ sake, Kakashi took out his phone and sat deeper in his chair. Yamato watched him like a hawk.

 

“Hello?”

 

There was music where she was, though it wasn’t so loud. She must still be dining with her friends. “Hello. I want to talk.”

 

“Huh? I’m sorry, who’s calling?”

 

“You gave me your number today and said to call you when I wanted to talk. So I’m calling.”

 

“Oh, from the bookshop! I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice over the phone. It’s so odd hearing you on the phone.”

 

From the corner of his eye, Kakashi could see Yamato mouthing  _ tonight _ insistently.

 

“No problem. What are you doing tonight?”

 

“I’m with friends right now,” she said, then whispered to someone. “We’re eating, but we’ve got plans for the rest of the night.”

 

“I suppose there’s no chance you could ditch them?”

 

There was a pause before Sakura continued. “No. I think my friend is saying she’ll kick me if I do. But what about Monday evening? After work?”

 

“Sure. Come by my shop and I’ll take you somewhere afterwards.”

 

“Sounds like a plan. See you Monday, Kakashi.”

 

“Alright. Monday.”

 

Kakashi hung up. 

 

“That was easy,” Yamato said. “You must have made a good first impression.”

 

“Seems so.”

 

More than ever, Kakashi was anxious to see her. It  _ had _ been easy. He should have felt relieved, yet he could only think of how she had asked if he didn’t have something for her earlier. The Sakura he knew was smart, well able to lay a trap for a man to walk right in thinking it had been his idea all along. He would watch his step.

 

“What’s the face for?” Yamato chuckled. “She said yes, yeah?”

 

…

 

Before Monday came Sunday, so Kakashi met with Nami. That night, she didn’t talk. She hardly looked at him while he ate, and sent no picture when she went to change. During their walk, she remained just as quiet. No cat, bright display or arcade could catch her attention tonight.

 

When they arrived at his apartment, she took the drugs first, as she always did -- except this time, she actually took one of the pills and swallowed it. Kakashi didn’t ask. The rest of the evening continued as usual, until the movie ended and she rolled onto her back. One by one, she tugged at her garments and removed them. Kakashi watched in silence. She was pretty, by all means. Nice, round hips, shapely breasts, a glimmer in her eye -- but tonight the glimmer wasn’t there. 

 

He was hard, either by habit or else, but Kakashi found little excitement in kissing her breasts or the feel of her thigh in his hand. Nami was numb to his touch, and Kakashi found himself numb in turn. He laid at her side instead. 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“You don’t have to do this,” Kakashi said simply. 

 

“Sorry, I’ll just -- “

 

Kakashi caught her hand when she reached between them. “It’s fine.”

 

Nami stared down into her pillow, then sighed heavily. “I can’t pay you, so…”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

After a moment, Nami rolled onto her side, facing away from him. Kakashi reached over her to shut the laptop. He tried to sleep, but Nami’s sour mood hung in the air still, stifling.

 

“Do you want me to take you home?”

 

“No.”

 

There was another long pause. He didn’t want to, but Kakashi finally asked, “Why do you come see me?”

 

Nami chuckled. “How’d you like it if I asked you why you drink all the time?”

 

Point taken, Kakashi didn’t insist. He should tell her she didn’t have to be here at all, he knew, yet he didn’t. If next week she was as cold to him, he wouldn’t touch her, but he would still go meet her the next Sunday. 

 

After a while, Nami rolled around again and slid her arms around his back. She held him tight, squeezing her body against his own. Kakashi wrapped one arm around her shoulders, stroking her back with his free hand. 

 

He didn’t need to ask why she came to him, he supposed. They were similar, in much their own ways. All the smiles, all the laughs -- they were her persona, not unlike the one Sakura had shown the world for years until it had finally become real when Sasuke returned home. He’d done it, too, albeit quite differently.

 

Just when he thought she might have fallen asleep, Nami moved, pulling away from him just enough to look up at him. The dim light coming between the curtains was just enough to see her; pouting lips and watery eyes.

 

“I hate you.”

 

Kakashi huffed, smiling. “I hate you too.”

 

She kissed him, and, unexpected as it was, Kakashi almost jumped back. But he didn’t. When she pulled away, he tried to follow. Breathless, he ran his thumb across her cheek. She smiled, just barely, but enough for Kakashi to know it was real. 

 

...

 

Monday, as per usual, Kakashi sat in his shop. From ten to five, he went about his usual routine of reading, sipping from his water bottle, and making a trip to the convenience store a few doors down. Most days, he rarely glanced at the clock, but today he often did. Time was slow. When it finally showed five, Kakashi looked at the door, but Sakura was nowhere to be seen yet. After work, she had said, but not when.

 

The bell finally rang half past six.

 

“Hey,” Sakura greeted, a meek smile on her face. She put her purse down on the counter and began searching inside, taking out various items. “I didn’t keep you waiting too long, did I?”

 

“Not at all.” Kakashi stood up. “I just need to go upstairs a minute.”

 

“Oh, sure, sorry,” Sakura chuckled, hurrying to shove her belongings back into her purse. “Can I use your bathroom while we’re there? I need to touch up my makeup.”

 

Kakashi nodded and led her outside. Sakura followed him up the stairs and into his apartment. At the sight of Pumpkin, she dropped to her knees and called to her. Pumpkin, much like his ninken, took an immediate liking to Sakura. While she played with the cat, Kakashi went to his fridge and chugged orange juice, swallowing a few ibuprofen with it. Gum would have to mask the smell of the vodka. 

 

Sakura went through her purse again. “Oh, hey, I’m so sorry, I think I left my lipstick downstairs by accident. Would you mind getting it for me while I play with Pumpkin here? She’s so cute!”

 

With a nod, Kakashi returned to his shop. As she had said, the lipstick tube was there, though it had rolled down onto the floor. Kakashi picked it up, frowning. 

 

Back upstairs, Sakura was still petting Pumpkin, who purred louder than he’d ever heard before. 

 

“Here.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Sakura went to the bathroom, so Kakashi took his time to feed and pet Pumpkin. When Sakura still didn’t come out, he began breaking chunks of bread from the loaf on his counter and ate them. The scars on his chest -- round wounds he’d never seen anything like before -- ached as they did sometimes and he rubbed at them. By the time fifteen minutes had passed, he considered checking on her, but she finally came out. 

 

“Okay, I’m ready,” she said. “Where are we going?”

 

“That’s a surprise.”

 

On the way to the subway, Sakura demanded they stop at a convenience store so she could grab a sandwich to eat on the way. Kakashi didn’t mind. He was rather hungry himself. At the register, he prepared to pay for her food, but Sakura beat him to it. She didn’t expect or wait for him to pay, so he only paid for his own. 

 

Sitting in the subway, they made small talk. She worked at a pharmacy as a technician, a far cry from the caliber of the real Sakura. Playing the piano and gymnastics were her main hobbies. She liked cats -- why did all women here like cats? Much like the real Sakura, she was quick to anger and easy to tease, so talking to her felt no less natural. 

 

“Do you have children?”

 

Sakura, taken aback, took a moment to answer. “No. No, I don't. Do you?”

 

Kakashi shook his head. So little Sarada hadn’t been born here. For a while, Sakura fell silent, enthusiasm for their conversation gone. 

 

“A friend of mine has a daughter,” Kakashi said. “She’s a miniature version of her father, that one. Same eyes and hair. I’m sure she’ll grow up to be just like her mother, though. It’s just a matter of time before her temper comes through, just like it did her mother.”

 

Sakura hummed. 

 

Soon after, they arrived at his school. Sakura hesitated before entering. “A martial arts school?”

 

“Yes,” Kakashi said. “It’s mine.”

 

“Are we going to take a class?” Sakura was dubious, staring at the building. “If you’d warned me, I’d have worn something more comfortable.”

 

Indeed, he should have. He hadn’t thought of it, though, not when Sakura hardly ever wore anything deemed uncomfortable. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

Sakura stared at him, one eyebrow lifting up high. Kakashi chuckled and led her inside. 

 

Once they were in a room by themselves, he shut the door and turned to Sakura. “Have you ever taken any taijutsu classes?”

 

“Not really,” she laughed, cheeks reddening just slightly. “A friend of mine did, though. Here, in fact. I know a thing or two, I suppose.”

 

Kakashi loosened his body in a fighting stance. “How about you try and hit me just once, then?”

 

He’d asked something similar of her once -- it had ended in shattered training grounds and expectations. Sakura was deadly. He’d thought of her as harmless for so long that it had never crossed his mind that she  _ could _ be strong.

 

Here, Sakura hesitated for a moment. Then, she shrugged out of her jacket and rolled up the sleeves of her sweater. When she attacked, Kakashi dodged easily, even in his slight drunken haze. Sakura was fast, but not this one. They went on for a while, with Sakura growing increasingly frustrated every time she missed. Finally, she had enough and growled, swinging a leg at his ankles. This, Kakashi couldn’t dodge, but he caught himself and retaliated. She dodged his first punch, but not the second.

 

She gasped and cupped her cheek, stumbling back a few steps. Kakashi froze.

 

“Shit,” she breathed. “That really hurts.”

 

Kakashi hurried to her and pulled her hand away to inspect her cheek. “Sorry.”

 

Her cheek was bleeding where the skin had split and it might leave a bruise, but there was no real damage. Tears shone at the corners of her eyes, and Kakashi’s brain ran wild trying to conjure up any sort of decent apology.

 

“No, it’s fine,” Sakura said. “I should have dodged. I was slow.”

 

Kakashi left her side to retrieve a first aid kit. She winced when he cleaned the wound with alcohol and he smiled at the banality of it. Sakura looked up to him, sheepish as if he had scolded her. He thought to kiss her -- close as they stood, it would have been easy -- and his hand stopped on her skin where he applied the bandage. Sakura took notice of his hesitation, but she only watched him. 

 

It wasn’t the desire to kiss her that bothered him -- though it certainly did, too -- but the familiarity of it. The same familiarity that let him know Pumpkin’s name or which keys to use when. 

 

“I didn’t think you’d be the kind of guy to punch a girl in the face,” Sakura finally said, chuckling to break the tension. “Is this common for you?”

 

Kakashi stepped away from her. “Hm, no. I’d say it’s a first. Usually, they do dodge.”

 

Sakura laughed. “I said I do gymnastics, right?”

 

Kakashi nodded. 

 

“How about you try and keep up with me, then?” she said, a mischievous grin on her lips. “I bet I won’t be the only one with a bloody cheek at the end of the evening.”

 

And Sakura wasn’t wrong. She was far more lithe and skilled than he was, and here, he recognized the Sakura he knew. His own body betrayed him when he tried to flip backwards as she had and instead went crashing. Sakura landed on her hands and rolled to her feet, laughing. Kakashi laid there in frustration for a moment. He missed his strong body and hated the extra softness of this one. 

 

“You alright?” Sakura asked, hovering over him. 

 

“Contemplating life and death,” Kakashi said. “At my age, it becomes inevitable, doesn’t it?”

 

“You sound just like someone I know,” Sakura said, helping him up. “I haven’t seen him in a while now.”

 

“Does he have a habit of being late, too?”

 

Sakura fell silent for a moment, lips slightly apart. Then, she stepped closer to him, watching him carefully. “Kakashi…”

 

Uncomfortable under her gaze, Kakashi shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yes?”

 

“Your last name isn’t really Kobayashi, is it?”

 

Kakashi froze. But no, he thought, chastising himself. It couldn’t be. 

 

“Is it?”

 

“It’s not,” Kakashi finally said.

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“Hatake.”

 

Sakura’s jaw fell. She closed the distance between them and touched his jaw, his hair, inspecting him as if she were giving him his yearly physical. “It can’t be.”

 

When she began rolling his sleeve to check his arms, Kakashi cleared his throat. “You can stop groping me, Sakura.”

 

She froze, his sleeve still in her hands. “What did you call me?”

 

He realized, too late, that he’d called her the wrong name.

 

“Oh my god,” Sakura whispered. “It is you. I thought -- I thought it might be, but it’s really you, Kakashi-sensei.”

 

“Sakura?” he breathed, taking in the details of her face once more. “Are you…?”

 

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. Kakashi returned her embrace, still in disbelief. 

 

“I’m so relieved I’m not alone,” she cried into his chest. “I’m so relieved.”

 

And he was too -- more than she could know. The moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d hoped, no matter how he much he tried to distance himself from that kind of desire here, that at least  _ she _ would be her true self.

 

…

 

Back at home, Kakashi plopped down on his bed. He was exhausted, in pain and could feel the shaking coming back to his hands, but he didn’t mind. The world had handed him a spark of hope and he clung to it with all he had. Sakura was here, too. It wasn’t just him. There  _ had _ to be a way back. But it didn’t matter what justification Kakashi came up with. He was simply happy to have a part of his true life with him. Anything he could cling to remember that this wasn’t it. After three months, he’d started to lose sight of such a thing.

 

The longer he lied there, the more his head pounded, so he stood to grab the orange juice and vodka. By the fridge, he stood still, hand on a glass inside the cupboard. With a sigh, he bent down to go search under the sink and took out his box. He was itching again.

 

Inside the box, he found the pills. He counted them, as he did every other night when the urge became stronger. It was easier to forget if he scratched the itch, just enough to be rid of it a while longer. This time, though, the number of pills didn’t match the one he remembered. Impossible. His memory  _ never _ failed him. He counted again. And twice again, but he wasn’t wrong. Pills were missing. 

 

He shoved the box under the sink and kicked the cupboard closed. He needed a drink. 

 

He ditched the juice and glass and took the vodka bottle to bed instead. He would drink until he fell asleep and forgot about this. The pills didn’t matter. They didn’t. Sakura was here now -- everything would be better. It just would be. Tomorrow, they would meet again and remember who he was. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I just wanted to thank everyone who took the time to read, and especially to review. It's always great to know someone's enjoying my word. I've been rather proud of it lately, too.
> 
> Stupid it as it is, I'd like to credit Dancing Kakashi for filling up probably 90% of my writing time lately. I've never procrastinated on Youtube so much until now. Sure makes the process more bearable when I just want to smash my face on the keyboard.
> 
> And here's chapter four! Things are gonna get interesting...

Much like Monday, Kakashi spent Tuesday in his shop, staring at the clock every few minutes. It didn’t matter how much he tried to distract himself, time was slow. Slow because it wasn’t real; it would be real when Sakura would be with him. When life was within his grasp once more. And when the evening came, she came with it. 

 

Sitting with her in his apartment, he could breathe. 

 

Sakura laughed. “So you’ve really been tending to the bookshop for three months?” she said, lifting an eyebrow. “The great Copy Nin, bookshop keeper. Who would have thought.”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “It’s not such a bad fit, really.”

 

“Of course it isn’t,” she said, stretching her legs where she sat on his desk. He ought to consider buying a couch. Even he simply sat on his bed. “It really is like you. Oh, did you know I’m  _ blonde _ here? I dye my hair, can you imagine that?”

 

“Not really,” he chuckled. “And you’ve been working? It can’t compare to patching people back together.”

 

“It doesn’t.” Sakura frowned, thumbing the edge of her take out container. “I hate it.”

 

“Then quit.”

 

Sakura stared at him like he’d just suggested killing kittens. “I can’t.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“This isn’t my life,” Sakura began, “I can’t just fuck it up. I mean, assuming this isn’t just one big fucked up dream, I’ll either live it to the end or hand it back to her. I can’t just do what I want.”

 

Kakashi fell silent. All along, he’d said this wasn’t his life, but he’d never considered it the way Sakura had -- it belonged to someone else. A  _ real _ person. 

 

“Plus,” she added, “I’ve got to feed myself somehow, right?”

 

“I could take care of that,” Kakashi said. “If that’s what you wanted.”

 

“What, with that run down place of yours?” She chuckled. “I bet it barely makes anything.”

 

Sakura wasn’t quite wrong, so Kakashi simply shrugged. His little box under the sink made plenty to live on. He’d always been rather frugal. Around his water -- actual water -- glass, Kakashi’s fingers began trembling. The bottle of vodka in his nightstand would quiet it, but he ignored it. When he turned his eyes back on Sakura, she smiled at him, almost like Yamato. Sympathetic.

 

“You can go ahead, you know,” she said, so soft he wondered if he didn’t imagine it. “You’ve been looking at it all night. I don’t mind.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I know you drink,” she said, staring down at her feet. “It’s not hard to tell. Not for me, at least. Plus, you smell like it.”

 

So the gum really didn’t help that much. He should have known. “Being a medic and all, you’d think you’d rather chastise me about the damage to my liver.”

 

“I would,” Sakura sighed, “but you didn’t choose this. I know that. Quitting isn’t easy. I can understand. I doubt you plan on staying here long enough to make a change, so why fight it, right?”

 

With her permission, Kakashi took the bottle of vodka out and swallowed a large sip. 

 

“Kakashi… How’d you wake up here?”

 

“Drunk and vomiting. You?”

 

Sakura chuckled. “Pretty much the same.”

 

The question hung in the air -- was it a coincidence? Was there a reason they’d been brought here? But Kakashi didn’t want to ponder that question.  _ What _ could he possibly do here?

 

When the silence stretched too long, Sakura stood to come and sit by him on the bed. She sidled up to him, pressing her shoulder against his arm, and Kakashi let her. 

 

“I miss them so much,” she whispered, voice watery. “So much.”

 

“You’ll see them soon,” Kakashi comforted, wrapping an arm around her and squeezing her shoulder. “They’re not gone.”

 

The urge reared its head again. Kiss her, hold her, it said. Touch her. Kakashi frowned and drank again instead. “Did you find him here? Sasuke?”

 

Sakura nodded. “But it’s useless. We’re not together here.”

 

Sakura placed a hand on his chest, toying with the fabric of his shirt, and Kakashi looked down at it. He’d rather she didn’t, but he said nothing. Instead, he rubbed her shoulder, finding a scar there. 

 

“So…” Sakura stretched her legs out from below her. “Did you find out much about yourself?”

 

“Myself?”

 

Sakura nodded. “Well, yeah? You’ve noticed it, haven’t you? We’re all the same. At the core, at least. Different lives, but we’re all the exact same. Or did you not meet anyone else?”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “I didn’t look into it much.”

 

“Really?” She stared up at him, leaning some of her weight on his chest. “I’m surprised.” When he didn’t speak, she continued, “I know a lot about you.”

 

“Do you?”

 

Sakura nodded again. “I tried to find out all I could. About everyone. About myself -- it was easy, I keep a diary here, too, and all the public information…”

 

“Did you find anything interesting?”

 

“I did,” she said. “Like your school. Some about your father, about… about your friends. Mostly about you. You were kinda famous for a while, you know?” 

 

Kakashi shrugged. 

 

“You competed in a ton of fighting tournaments. You stopped, though. You paralyzed one of your opponents and it made a big scandal about your school and all…” Sakura chewed on her thumb. “Or that you had your own business -- not this one, of course -- and it was really successful. Did you know you spent a month in the hospital two years ago?”

 

“What for?”

 

“Gunshot wounds to the chest.”

 

Kakashi hummed. It explained the scars on his chest, but not how he got them.  “How do you know all of this?”

 

Sakura shrugged. “Internet. Talking to people, a few phones calls where I might have impersonated different people…”

 

Laughing, Kakashi squeezed his arm around her, pulling her a bit closer. “Devious little Sakura. I would never have guessed.”

 

“So you really didn’t try to find out more? Isn’t there anything you’d really want to know?”

 

Kakashi paused for a moment. “No.”

 

There was, of course, but he wouldn’t tell her. He hadn’t talked to Obito since that day three months ago, and it would likely stay so. 

 

“Kakashi,” she said, sitting on her shins to look straight at him. “I know there are… there are people here who were dear to you. Don’t you think you should take advantage of that? You’ll never get a chance like this again.”

 

“We’re not on speaking terms.”

 

“And?”

 

“How can I fix something when I have no idea what I did?”

 

Sakura frowned, mouth already opening to fight his excuses, so Kakashi looked away. “I can find out. I already know a bit about you and Obito. I know he has a wife, and she was… I can find out for you. I know you can’t ask, but I can.”

 

“Sakura,” Kakashi sighed. “Just let it go.”

 

“No,” Sakura protested. “I won’t let you waste this.”

 

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

 

“I’ll just befriend her,” she said. “It can’t be that hard to get a civilian to spill the beans.”

 

There was no convincing Sakura otherwise when she got an idea into her thick head, so he said nothing and drank more vodka instead. When she realized he wouldn’t humor her, Sakura excused herself to the bathroom. The moment she closed the door behind her, Kakashi sprang to his feet. She’d left her purse on the desk, unattended. All along, something had been off. Sakura had known exactly how to approach him -- she knew something she hadn’t shared yet. Inside her purse, he found two cellphones. A quick check revealed that the one he’d seen her use, on the bench across from his shop, had a different number than the one she’d given him. Kakashi frowned. But he heard the toilet flush, so he shoved the phones back in purse and sat back on the bed. 

 

Sakura sat by him again, but she was silent now. Kakashi reached behind her, brushing his fingers across the scar on her shoulder. 

 

“How’d you get this?”

 

“Gymnastics,” Sakura said, twisting to look at it. “I failed my first real backflip pretty bad, go figure.”

 

Kakashi hummed. Sakura talked a whole lot about him, but what had she said about herself? Gymnastics, piano, her job, her hair -- little of worth. Did she have any secrets like did? Or maybe she didn’t. Sakura hadn’t led a life like his. She’d been a happy little girl and overcame the obstacles life threw her way, unscathed together with the people she loved. People like her didn’t need to hide.

 

…

 

Like clockwork, Friday and Yamato came. They sat together on the bed, sharing beers and the take out food Yamato had brought with him. 

 

“So what happened with that girl on Monday?”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “I took her to the school and we sparred.”

 

“What, really?” Yamato’s hand froze, chopsticks holding noodles between his mouth and the box. “That doesn’t sound like a good first date. Was she a student or something?”

 

Kakashi shook his head. “No, she’d never had any training before.”

 

Yamato simply stared.

 

“I punched her in the face. By accident, of course.”

 

Laughing, Yamato sighed. “Smooth, Kakashi, smooth. Bet she’ll never want to see your face ever again.”

 

“Actually,” Kakashi chuckled, “she spent every evening here since then.”

 

“Maybe I need to try that trick, then,” Yamato laughed. “If it works so well.”

 

Kakashi hummed. For a while, they ate and drank in silence, though Kakashi could feel Yamato’s hundred burning questions on the tip of his lips.

 

“You know,” Yamato said, “it sort of reminds me when we were kids. We’d spar, but then it’d get out of hand and one of us would end up bloody. And then Tsunade would stitch us up and chew us out for being so rough.”

 

“Sounds like her.”

 

Toying with the label of his beer, Yamato stared at the floor. “I… I miss Sakumo. He was like a father to me.”

 

Kakashi chewed in silence. 

 

“Sorry,” Yamato said, “I know you hate talking about it. It’s just… You should, sometimes. You never have in the fifteen years he’s been gone. Like he didn’t exist.”

 

“What is there to say?”

 

“Well, don’t you miss him?” Yamato frowned. “I know you had your problems, the two of you, but I know how close you were too.”

 

From the day he’d died, Kakashi had missed his father. He was but a child then, but old enough to know how important a father was. What his father had robbed him of. Had he even cared? He’d left his son behind to salvage his own reputation -- and for what? He would never enjoy it. 

 

“He was proud of you, you know,” Yamato added. “I know he said otherwise often and always pushed you, but he always thought you’d accomplish more than he ever could. It really blindsided him when you quit competing.”

 

“That wasn’t me,” Kakashi said, sipping his beer. This, at least, he knew. Kobayashi and he had that in common -- wanting to please an impossible father. “I couldn’t be what he wanted.”

 

Yamato nodded. “You weren’t wrong, I don’t think. He saw so much potential in you -- it was like he stopped seeing any other part of you.” Yamato paused to sigh. “I’m glad you’re sparring with Minato again. I know fighting like that wasn’t part of you, but fighting, it’s in your blood.”

 

When Kakashi’s phone rang, Yamato jumped. At the sight of Obito’s name on the screen, Kakashi stood.

 

“I have to take this.”

 

Yamato nodded. Kakashi hurried outside before answering.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Hey, Kakashi,” Obito said. “It’s been a while.”

 

“It has.”

 

“I… I heard you’ve been doing better lately. Is that true?”

 

Kakashi nodded. “You could say that. Who spoke to you?”

 

“I just heard,” Obito said. “Are you sober?”

 

“No,” Kakashi admitted. “Not entirely.”

 

“I see. I’m glad you’re doing better, though. You’re on the right path.”

 

“I hope so.”

 

“Can I… Can I ask? What you’re taking now?”

 

“Nothing but alcohol. Tsunade is supervising the process.”

 

“I see. I suppose you can’t just do it all once. How do you feel?”

 

Kakashi paused, lacking an answer. “I’m getting by.”

 

Obito hummed, uncomfortable. “You’ve got to start somewhere, right? You’ll get through this, Kakashi.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Do you… Would you like to meet next week?”

 

Kakashi’s breath caught in his throat. Hearing his voice was one thing -- seeing Obito? The man he would have become? 

 

“Last time, you asked if we could meet, so -- “

 

“Where?”

 

“I’ll text you the address. It’s a quiet place near your shop. Saturday next week, is that alright?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay. Well, I’ll text you later. Okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Kakashi hung up. He leaned on the balcony rails, staring at the concrete that faced him. He didn’t have a choice now -- he’d have to take Sakura up on her offer to dig up his past. He couldn’t face Obito without a proper apology.

 

…

 

On Saturday, Sakura was waiting in front of his shop when he came down to open it. The sight of her -- Kakashi hardly knew how to explain it. She wore skirts every time he had seen her here, but the pleated skirt she wore today caught his eye. Instantly, he was hard and hot. It wasn’t so short it would turn heads, but it was short enough. All he wanted was to slide a hand up her thigh and into that skirt -- she wouldn’t be wearing anything under it. 

 

“Good morning.”

 

Sakura leaned against the wall, an awkward smile on her lips. 

 

“Good morning.”

 

Shop unlocked, Kakashi went inside to sit at his desk. Sakura followed him in, then walked around the aisles. They’d agreed to spend the day together until she would leave to meet with her friends. Watching her search for a book to read, Kakashi leaned his chin in his hand, palm over his mouth. He knew he had to stop ogling her, so he reached for his water bottle and chugged too much of it. It would calm him down. 

 

Book in hand, Sakura sat by him on the desk. Here, too, he lacked seating. She read, hardly paying him any attention -- and Kakashi was more than grateful for it. But with her so close, all Kakashi could focus on was the way her thighs crossed together, the skirt loosely splayed on top of them. 

 

Kakashi wanted to laugh. Laugh in misery. He drank more.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Never been better.”

 

Sakura watched him, uncertain, but she returned to her book soon enough.

 

Kakashi returned to his suddenly wild imagination. He couldn’t recall the last time he had thought this way of a woman -- much less Sakura. He could just see it. All he’d have to do was put a hand between her thighs and reach up. Spread her thighs. Then he’d just thrust into her and -- Kakashi drank some more. 

 

Thoughts of kissing and touching her he had pushed aside without much trouble, but this was on another level. There  _ had _ to be something going on. A reason why this desire for her felt so natural. He would have to find out -- he really didn’t want to know, if he was right, but then it wouldn’t be his problem, so it would be better.

 

“I found out what happened,” Sakura said after a long time. “Between you and Obito.”

 

“How?”

 

Sakura shrugged. “Talked to a few people here and there. A little girl talk and one of her friends told me everything.”

 

“Was it really that easy?”

 

With a nod, Sakura put her book down. “Yeah.”

 

Espionage had never been Kakashi’s forte. He didn’t know how to blend in -- he always stuck out like a sore thumb -- but Sakura? She knew how. 

 

“Well, don’t you want to know?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Sakura looked down between them, but only for a brief moment before meeting his eyes again. “I told you about the business, yeah?”

 

Kakashi looked where she had; he was touching her calf. Maybe drinking so much so fast wasn’t so smart after all. He pulled his hand away. 

 

“It was yours and Obito. Your father died a year or two after it took off. She said after a while you started showing up drunk to all the meetings. Obito did his best to cover things up, but clients were starting to notice. It looked bad.” Sakura paused and stared at her feet. Somehow, Kakashi guessed he wouldn’t like hearing the rest. “For a long time, they kept your involvement minimal. But even then, you were hurting the company. So Obito ended up buying you out. Your relationship was strained from that point, but from what I could gather, you were still on speaking terms. Until your injury, at least. She said things went down fast in the months that followed. At a party, you, um…”

 

“Just say it.”

 

“You tried to sleep with Obito’s wife.”

 

“At the party?”

 

Sakura nodded. Kakashi wanted to laugh again. It was pitiful. 

 

“I… I don’t know all the details, but from what I can understand, that was the end of it.”

 

Kakashi looked up at Sakura. Through all of it, she’d kept a straight face. As if this wasn’t somehow beyond humiliating. And it was so much worse than she could know -- she couldn’t even begin to imagine the unruly thoughts that still ran wild in his head even after all she’d said. If anything, they only intensified. 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“What for?”

 

“I know this can’t be easy,” she whispered. “And… you probably didn’t want to hear it from me -- or anyone else, I can imagine.”

 

Kakashi nodded. 

 

“I don’t think any less of you, if it it’s any help. It was a difficult time for you.”

 

“Why would you?” Kakashi said, picking up the book he’d left behind the day before. “I did none of that.”

 

Sakura fell silent, but he could still feel her eyes on him. He could just hear her say  _ but it’s still the same person. _ So he buried his nose in his book, determined to ignore her, and the world, and  _ everything _ . Sakura did the same.

 

But after a while, she lowered the book and looked at him. “Are you alright?”

 

Kakashi placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed it too hard. “Sakura, shut up and read your book.”

 

And she obeyed it like an order, though not without some hurt flashing in her eyes. 

 

When the clock struck noon, she muttered something about getting them lunch, and Kakashi didn’t stop her. He was glad for the little peace he would get -- or would have gotten, had Tsunade not entered almost right after Sakura left. She must have been waiting for an opportunity for a while. As she walked in, she looked over her shoulder and outside.

 

“Do you know that girl?”

 

Kakashi nodded.

 

“Were the pills for her?”

 

Kakashi sighed. “Why do you ask?”

 

With a frown, Tsunade placed a new box on his counter. “She used to be a student of mine, a few years back.”

 

Kakashi handed Tsunade the agreed upon amount and hid the box. Sakura already knew plenty without this to add to her list. 

 

“So was it her?”

 

Kakashi shook his head. The pills ought to be for Nami, but he never bothered to give them to her. “I only met her a short while ago.”

 

But that wasn’t the truth, of course. This was the Sakura he’d known since she was a child. The girl he rarely ever spoke to, yet was losing his mind over today. 

 

Tsunade hummed, leaning on the counter. “How’s she looking?”

 

Kakashi shrugged.

 

“She was under my mentorship back when she was interning, but she quit when her fiancé died.”

 

“Do you know his name?”

 

Tsunade shook her head. “Why would you want to know that, anyway?”

 

Kakashi gave another shrug of his shoulders. “Just wondering.”

 

Tsunade stared him down for a moment, then sighed. “Be nice to her. She’s a good girl. I’ve got to get going now.”

 

With Tsunade gone, Kakashi expelled all the air from his lungs. Sakura did hide things from him. Whether he cared to figure them out, he didn’t know. He pulled his phone from his pocket and went through it for the thousandth time. In his current state, he ended up searching for the video. It crossed his mind that he might just have the time to go upstairs and relieve a little tension, but the thought died when he started the video for a peek.

 

“Shit.” 

 

And yet again, he wanted to laugh. 

 

It was obvious now, who that girl was -- and maybe if he’d paid more attention and hadn’t let the image get blurry in his mind, he would have noticed sooner. The scar, the blonde hair -- it couldn’t be clearer. They  _ did _ know each other. While Sakura had been digging up every single dirty secret of his she could get her hands on, she’d buried her own. Here she was, moaning under him, all on video for him to view. Kakashi slammed the phone on the counter, rubbing a palm down his face. 

 

“ _ Shit. _ ”

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

The scent of curry was all it took to begin untying the knot in his stomach. It had been there since the previous day, since he’d looked at that video. He hadn’t told Sakura -- how could he? It would be pure humiliation to her and he couldn’t argue it; he’d rather she didn’t know his naked body quite in such detail either, let alone what he sounded like in the throes of orgasm while he came inside her, no less. So he hadn’t. He’d been in a foul mood all morning already and Sakura didn’t question it when she returned with lunch. 

 

Kakashi opened the door and saw Nami standing by the counter, as was bound to happen every Sunday. She would take his mind off of everything, even if just for a short while. 

 

“Oh, hey!”

 

But Nami only smiled halfway, uncomfortable. At her side, at the table he usually took, Kakashi found a group of people around Nami’s age. 

 

“Hey.”

 

“The usual?”

 

Kakashi nodded and went for a different table. That he didn’t speak to her didn’t break their routine, so he didn’t mind it so much. Her friends would leave soon enough and they could resume their relationship.

 

Nami caught his arm when he walked past the table. “You can sit with us, if you’d like.”

 

Kakashi hesitated for a moment, watching Nami.

 

“Hey, you’re the guy Nami told us about, aren’t you? With the martial arts school?”

 

Kakashi turned to answer the girl who’d spoken, but Nami beat him to it. “That’s him.”

 

Though Kakashi didn’t say a word, the conversation flowed easily around him. Nami spoke of how they met at his bookshop -- perhaps not such a lie, after all -- and he became a regular here, and now her Sundays weren’t quite complete without him. She told them his name and they made room for him to sit. There was no mention of his age. Later in the evening, Nami stood by him, a hand on his shoulder as she spoke of Pumpkin and how cute she was. Kakashi was tempted to reach up and touch her, too, but he refrained.

 

The evening came to an end and it was time to leave. Nami’s friends went their own way and she walked home with him. As per usual, she chatted a mile a minute, speaking of what a good week she’d had, how fun kendo classes were, how she couldn’t wait to see Pumpkin again -- anything. Kakashi listened as he did.

 

Inside his apartment, Kakashi headed for the bed, expecting Nami to go for the box, but she grabbed his hand. When he turned around, she looked up at him with a small smile and cheeks just barely red. She stepped closer, slid her hands up his chest and leaned on them when she stood on her toes to kiss him. She hoisted herself up on the counter and led him between her thighs. 

 

Hands on his neck, she smiled. “I hate you.”

 

Kakashi returned the favor and followed her lead when she resumed their kiss. If she had lacked enthusiasm the previous week, she made up for it a hundred times over tonight. Thighs hooked around his hips, she pressed her body to his, back arched so they couldn’t possibly be closer. He could feel the tips of her fingers tickling the hair at the base of his neck. When they broke apart, Nami stared up into his eyes, red lips apart and breath warm on his own.

 

Breathless, Kakashi searched her eyes. “What are you doing?”

 

Nami smiled, lopsided. “What do you mean?”

 

“This isn’t how it usually goes.”

 

“So?” Nami shrugged. “Maybe it’s time for a little bit of change.”

 

Nami reached under his sweater, cold fingers on his sides. And he wanted them there, wanted what came next with a hunger he hardly recognized after so long without it -- had he even ever had it? -- but there was always just that -- a but. 

 

“In my life,” Nami continued when he didn’t speak. “Between us. Don’t you think?”

 

She kissed him again, silencing him before he could answer. For a while, he didn’t mind. 

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kakashi breathed between two kisses. “Precisely.”

 

Less convinced, Nami shrugged and looked off to the side. “I don’t know. Not precisely. But I want change.”

 

“What kind of change?”

 

“No more drugs,” Nami whispered, tucking her head under his chin. “I don’t want to be like that. Not anymore.”

 

Kakashi hummed. “And this? Without the drugs, there’s no reason for you to be here.”

 

“There’s you.”

 

Kakashi could hardly swallow his spit correctly. He stared between them, breathing through his nose. 

 

Nami cupped his jaw and cocked her head to the side to meet his eyes. “Kakashi?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I’m not…” She hesitated, chewing her lip. “I don’t know what I want from you. So don’t freak out. I just want to be here, okay?”

 

Kakashi nodded. Nami kissed him again and his breath slowly returned to him. Inhaling a sharp, fresh breath, he wrapped his arms around her and embraced her as tight as he could without hurting her. 

 

“I want you to be here.”

 

Nami chuckled. “You don’t speak much, but when you do, you make it worthwhile, don’t you?”

 

Kakashi laughed against her lips and kissed her again. Words now spent, it wasn’t long before Nami’s back was against the counter and clothes were tossed away haphazardly. When he bit back a moan, she giggled, and, to repay her, he made sure she couldn’t keep silent if she tried to. Later, when they lied tangled in bed, Nami’s hand roamed his chest. She touched his scars, followed the dip of his ribcage, and all the flaws he found in this body didn’t bother him so much. Tight, lean muscles or not, Nami touched him all the same. 

 

She continued for the length of the movie and his box remained under the sink. 

 

…

 

Sat on his calves, Kakashi waited for Minato. Most evenings he now spent with Sakura, but she understood when he didn’t disrupt his previous schedule for her. It was convenient that she did, so Kakashi hadn’t pointed out how ridiculous it should have been to her. When she talked of finding a way a back, he hardly spoke. Again, she would ask if he was alright, and he’d say it was the alcohol wearing him down. She would be understanding. It wasn’t the alcohol, of course.

 

“You look eager today,” Minato said. “That is good.”

 

Kakashi stood and bowed. 

 

Minato wasted no time on conversation; Kakashi never had any to give. Instead, they exchanged blows. Drunk or not, his training remained vivid in Kakashi’s mind, but this body didn’t know it so crystal clear. He couldn’t be as fluid as he used to, but little by little as the months went by, liquid returned to his muscles. With his moves no longer so sluggish anymore, a fire lit in the pit of his stomach. Minato bounced back a fair distance and examined Kakashi for a moment before he charged again. And he was fast, because he was Minato, but Kakashi dodged the blow that came from the side rather than the front -- because it was Minato -- and retaliated. This time, Kakashi pinned Minato down and aimed the next punch. He could have hit him, but he stopped. It would have been useless. Minato was already poised to counter and throw him off. 

 

Kakashi stood up and offered Minato a hand.

 

“Good work,” Minato said.

 

Kakashi nodded.

 

“You were strong today,” he continued, “but sloppy.”

 

How could he not be sloppy when he was drunk every hour of the day?

 

“Something is on your mind.”

 

“There’s always something.”

 

Minato smiled. “Something different. New.”

 

“There’s nothing.”

 

“Why lie to me?” Minato said. He sat cross-legged on the floor and Kakashi did the same. “What does it accomplish?”

 

Kakashi frowned, staring at the floor. 

 

“Speak.”

 

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

 

“Is that the truth?”

 

Kakashi breathed through his nose. He stared at the paper walls, the tatami below him, the wrinkles in his clothes, and, ultimately, his eyes stopped on Minato; he sat still, patient.

 

“I’m disappointed in myself.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“I…” Kakashi breathed in. “I’ve done things I’m ashamed of.”

 

“What are those things?”

 

Like Sakura, Minato watched him with a neutral face, though he lacked the sympathy that was inevitable on Sakura’s. Kakashi’s lips remained sealed.

 

“When drifting, it’s only natural to hang onto any anchor you find,” Minato said. He paused, searching in Kakashi’s eyes for everything he desperately tried to hide. “Seeking comfort in those you share a bond with is not shameful.”

 

Kakashi’s breath caught in his throat. 

 

“You’ve done well tonight,” Minato added. “I’m proud of you.”

 

Kakashi nodded and stood up with Minato when he did. 

 

For a moment, Minato watched him, piercing eyes into his. “Your mother misses you. Why don’t you go visit her?”

 

Unable to answer, Kakashi remained silent. 

 

“Think about it. Family is important,” Minato said, clapping a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder. “I’ll see you next Thursday.”

 

Kakashi nodded and bowed. He would think about it -- how could he not? -- but he would not meet her. This woman he knew neither the face nor the name of would never be his mother. She was Kobayashi’s mother, and there was only so much taunting he could endure.

 

…

 

That Friday, when Yamato came, he wasn’t empty-handed. There were more green leaves than there was Yamato -- he carried a plant so large it hid his face from Kakashi’s view when he opened the door. Yamato had laughed, apologizing. He’d seen the plant in a shop on his way to the apartment and hadn’t been able to resist, so he had carried it all the way here, disguised as plant-man. Kakashi had just smiled and invited him inside. The plant was welcome.

 

Now, plant by his desk, Yamato sat with him on the bed, beer in hand and takeout in his lap.

 

“Did you see that girl again?” Yamato asked, nudging Kakashi’s shoulder. “Surely you did.”

 

Kakashi nodded.

 

“And? Spending so much time with her, are you dating?”

 

“So many questions about me,” Kakashi chuckled. “Why don’t you find a woman of your own to date instead?”

 

Yamato shrugged, laughing. “It’s just good to see you meeting new people.”

 

Kakashi hummed. 

 

“It’s just…” Yamato sighed, bright smile now somber. “It’s just that after Sasuke’s death, you kind of… disappeared.”

 

Kakashi’s heart sank. The boy in the picture -- it must be him. 

 

“And on that day in November,” Yamato continued. November eleventh. The day he’d woken here, so intoxicated he had thought he might meet death. “I… I couldn’t sleep. I was scared out of mind, so I came here. And you were drunk, of course, and I really thought you wouldn’t wake up this time. I thought, that’s it. That’s it, he’s gone. I didn’t come soon enough and now he’ll never wake up.” Yamato paused, sipping his beer, eyes lost in the green of his plant. “When you were in the hospital, I thought you would never wake up, too. Even the doctors said you probably wouldn’t. But you did, you did. You came back to us.”

 

Kakashi ran his fingers over the gunshot wounds on his chest. But Sasuke hadn’t. 

 

“And now…” Yamato turned to look at him, some of his smile returning. “I don’t know what happened these last few months, but you’re doing so much better.”

 

Kakashi remained silent. His entire life had changed, but he couldn’t say it. He wasn’t Kobayashi and he had never lived these events -- his own wounds were much older, just scars by now. 

 

“I’m glad. That’s what I want to say, I guess. I’m just glad.”

 

For the rest of the evening, they drank. Yamato smiled, talked of how he might try growing more plants on his balcony. While they played a game of cards, he snapped a picture. Kakashi smiled, too, returning Yamato’s jokes and teasing him about women. For a time, he forgot, forgot that this wasn’t a night with his best friend by the fire on a mission that had them camping far from home. 

 

When Yamato finally left, Kakashi shut the door behind him and stood there for a time.

 

The date he had come into this world was no coincidence. It was the day Sasuke had died two years ago and the day Kobayashi had wished for death. A wish Kakashi was all too familiar with but that he’d never allowed himself the luxury of entertaining. For all the lives he’d taken, he was bound to save as many. Suicide was the coward’s way out -- he would repay his debts. And he had, he believed, even if only indirectly through Naruto and Sasuke. 

 

Yet, he stood here, faced with the same gaping, oozing wounds.

 

He searched the apartment once more, half-heartedly, until he stood at the foot of his bed with lead in his stomach. There was no trace of Sasuke in his life. Kakashi, too, had buried all he could of Obito and Rin and Minato -- save for a single picture on his desk. Under the bed, he found another box, pushed so far back he could barely reach it. Carefully, Kakashi opened it, and there it was. The remnants of Sasuke’s presence in his life.

 

There was a picture of the two of them that Kakashi stared at too long. Sasuke smiled, here. Kakashi couldn’t recall the last time Sasuke had smiled -- not even at his wedding to Sakura. There were newspaper clippings he’d taken from the dojo; Sasuke had been a rising star, of course. None spoke of Sasuke the way they did him. Sasuke was powerful, but there were no records of him shattering limbs and paralyzing opponents. Under the newspapers clippings, he found more pictures, and under them, a stack of documents. It had taken a long time and many signatures, but he’d become Sasuke’s foster father. Judging by the dates, Sasuke couldn’t have been older than fifteen when he’d begun the process. 

 

Kakashi sat down on the bed, box in his lap. Sasuke’s childhood was summarized in one page; he was a child destined to be betrayed by family. There was a single, bland line that described why he was taken from his biological parents:  _ physical abuse, neglect. _

 

There were more pictures in the box, most of them from the dojo, and Kakashi realized Yamato must have taken all of them, as Kakashi himself was in a few pictures, always caught unaware. At the very bottom of the box, he found a card. An invitation to a wedding.

 

_ Umeko insisted I send you an official invitation. Here it is. The date is on the front.  _

 

_ Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. My life is the way it is because of you. If you hadn’t picked me up in that alley, I don’t know where I would be. Umeko says she’s thankful, too. She’s impatient to finally meet you at the wedding. _

 

_ I figured I might as well write this since we’re already wasting ink and paper. _

 

_ P.S. I told her you were paying for the wedding so she would stop asking questions about where I’m getting the money. If the deal goes wrong tomorrow and we don’t get paid, you’ll have to _

 

It stopped there, mid-sentence, because Sasuke had run out of writing space on the card. Kakashi slipped a hand under his shirt, feeling his scars. The deal  _ had _ gone wrong. It had to have been his fault; he was the one who sold drugs. 

 

In the pictures, Kakashi could hardly recognize Sasuke. The Sasuke he knew was a shell of a man going through the motions of an ordinary human life, entirely disconnected from it and his wife and child. Here, Sasuke was alive, smirking or frowning as he did with Naruto when they were children. 

 

Sasuke was dead, but maybe Kobayashi hadn’t truly failed him after all.

 

…

 

Kakashi had spent the rest of the night drinking. The next morning, when Sakura came to wake him, he stood at the door, still tipsy. He was late to open the shop. He stepped aside to let her in, wobbly on his feet, and she asked if he was alright again. He told her Sasuke was dead, and she answered in the flattest of voices,  _ You found out _ . Yes, he had found out -- of course she’d known before him. She knew everything. She  _ wanted _ to know everything.

 

He took a shower. He was meeting Obito this afternoon and he couldn’t smell so strongly of alcohol. Sakura waited for him on his bed when he stepped outside of the bathroom and immediately he felt Sakura’s eyes on him. Shirtless as he was, she could see just how different his body was here. And he could see it her in eyes, her surprise. The image of the perfect albeit tardy teacher was broken once and for all.

 

He sat with her on the bed, wet hair dripping on his shoulders. Sakura stared at her knees. She knew she’d walked in on a secret -- one of  _ his _ secrets.

 

“I’m sorry I kept it from you,” she said. “I thought you’d rather not know.”

 

Kakashi nodded. She wasn’t wrong.

 

After a long moment of silence, Kakashi looked at her. “Are you alright?”

 

Sakura burst into tears. He didn’t know what to do, so he did nothing. When she leaned her wet cheek against his shoulder, he wrapped an arm around her, and she clung to him, sobbing. For a long time, he listened to her cry, silent. He didn’t know why she was crying and he didn’t ask. 

 

“Everything will be alright, Sakura.”

 

“Will it?” Sakura said, finally drying her tears and smearing her makeup. “What if we stay here forever?”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “We won’t.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“I just do.”

 

Sakura wasn’t convinced and he hadn’t expected her to be -- he was never a good liar. Not to her, not when it came to giving comfort.

 

“I hate it here,” she said. 

 

“I know.”

 

“You do too,” Sakura said softly, looking up at him from his shoulder. He thought to kiss her. “But why?”

 

Kakashi only hummed.

 

“The people you loved are alive,” Sakura said, eyes lingering on the box and pictures on the nightstand. “How can it be so horrible?”

 

Kakashi reached into his pocket and took out his cellphone. When he pressed play on the video, he chucked it in her lap. Sakura gasped and dropped the phone on the floor when she tried to pick it up. For the few seconds it took her to stop the video, her moans and sighs filled the air. 

 

“Is that enough of an answer for you?”

 

“You’re not supposed to have that,” Sakura said, blushing to the tips of her ears. “You lied.”

 

“I lied?”

 

Sakura’s cheeks flushed a deeper red. “He lied. It was supposed to be deleted.”

 

“And you know that. How?”

 

“I keep a diary, like I said,” Sakura whispered. “I write a lot. I do here too.”

 

“And I’m in it.”

 

Sakura nodded.

 

Kakashi sighed. “So you knew, then. From the beginning.”

 

Sakura nodded again. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled and reached into her purse for her phone. His phone’s screen flashed with a new message. It came from the customer who would text him about which books she would buy. The two books she’d bought the day they met were the last two titles she’d sent -- books she’d already bought before. He was right; Sakura was clever.

 

“That was you.”

 

“Yes,” Sakura said. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You didn’t want me to know,” he said. “You thought I wouldn’t want to know.”

 

Sakura remained silent.

 

“You weren’t wrong. I’d rather not have known.”

 

It crossed his mind to joke about it, to try and cut the tension somehow, but joking about Sakura not sounding so bad in the midst of sex was something he couldn’t bring himself to do. He could have said he didn’t mind the naked image of her so much. She wasn’t so unattractive. That, too, he couldn’t say. She might have laughed or punched him, but he couldn’t.

 

Sakura, though, could. “Is it really so terrible to sleep with me?”

 

He should have laughed, he should have said no, probably not, anything, but he couldn’t laugh because she would see right through it. She would hear the voice in his head -- the one that told him to hold her, kiss her, never let go -- and she would not believe him. Because Sakura was Sakura and she had never believed his lies, only pretended to.

 

“You’re the same age I was when you I met you. I’ve never looked at you that way.”

 

Sakura hummed and nodded. “I know.”

 

They both stared at the floor, the blanket, anything to avoid each other’s eyes.

 

“I always liked that you didn’t,” Sakura whispered. “It felt like you were the only man I could ever be completely at ease with.”

 

And he had broken that trust. He’d never meant to, but he had.

 

“We should train together,” Sakura said, breaking the silence that had settled. “Tonight, or whenever you’re free. We can’t let our minds go soft, can we?” When he said nothing, she nudged his shoulder and smiled bright as her hair. “Come on now, don’t make that face. You’ll feel better after. Promise.”

 

“I’m tired, Sakura.”

 

“That’s exactly why we should do it.”

 

He sighed, then nodded. She wouldn’t let it go, so he had little choice.

 

Sakura went downstairs after fixing her makeup, saying she would wait for him to open the shop while he dressed. For the rest of the morning, they read together, a book each in hand, and Kakashi never let his eyes stray from the ink on the pages. Kobayashi felt attraction towards Sakura -- not him. He just had to ignore it the same way he had the drugs. It would pass in time and everything would go back to normal eventually. It was all a waiting game, all of it. If he had anything, it was time and patience.

 

In the afternoon, his phone rang with Obito’s text. They would meet in an hour in the park where Sakura liked to read. Before he could decide whether to close the shop or not, Sakura offered to watch it, and he agreed and left for the park. He sat by the water, where she usually sat, and waited. He was early -- too early -- so he let himself be distracted by his surroundings. Out of all the places he had visited in the city, here was the only he’d found much greenery. It was faint, but he could smell the scent of the leaves, the water, the grass under him -- nothing like Konoha’s dense forests, but enough to fill his mind with them. With what it felt like to run through the leaves, jumping from one branch to another. 

 

When Obito appeared in his sight, Kakashi stood to meet him. As they exchanged awkward greetings, all Kakashi could see were the missing scars and deformations he’d last seen on Obito. His skin was normal, smooth as could be for their age, and he wasn’t some atrocity created by Madara. Just Obito. And as he spoke of his daughter, it was all Kakashi could hear. Obito, the child Kakashi had known. No madman. 

 

This world had kept them sane. Protected them, even if only just enough, from the brutality of the mercenary and military lives they’d led with him. Without chakra, without power and enemies to kill, they had grown into good people. Sasuke had learned to smile and Obito had never forgotten how to. 

 

“Kakashi?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I was asking you how the bookshop is doing,” Obito said, half smiling. “Has business been good?”

 

“Good enough,” Kakashi said.

 

Obito nodded. He talked for the both of them and Kakashi watched the green of the leaves. When Obito spoke of their business, a publishing company, Kakashi smiled. He liked books. It made sense. A life of reading books and deciding which ones to pass on to the public -- perhaps it wouldn’t have been such a bad life. The business had been successful, so certainly Kobayashi had his good taste in literature. 

 

“You look well,” Obito said, then added, “well enough.”

 

Kakashi nodded. “I’ve seen rosier days.”

 

Obito laughed, then caught himself and hid behind his smile. “You have. But you’re getting better -- that’s what matters.”

 

Kakashi hummed.

 

“Listen, Rin isn’t too thrilled about the idea, but…” Obito stared down at this hands, sliding his fingers between one another. “There’s this book that came in last week. I think it has potential, but I just can’t figure out what to do with it, and… I think it’d be right down your alley.” He paused, waiting for a reaction. “You’ll be compensated for your work if you decide to tackle the project, of course. But I think it would be good. You used to love it. So much that uncle Jiraiya left you the bookstore.” 

 

Obito laughed, eyes taken with memories Kakashi would never know. It was a nice story; he had never imagined growing up close enough to his idol that he would inherit such a precious place. 

 

Obito pulled a stack of paper from his bag and handed it to Kakashi. Stack in his lap, Kakashi read the cover.  _ Believe it _ by Uzumaki Naruto. The story of a young boy yearning for recognition amongst peers who reject him. Kakashi couldn’t help but chuckle. The title was awful and needed changing, but Obito was right. This book was meant for him. 

 

“What do you say? Don’t leave me hanging like that.”

 

He flipped the pages and resisted the urge to laugh. Jiraiya’s gift for words had not been passed on to Naruto. Not even an iota of it.

 

“I know, it needs a lot of work,” Obito chuckled, “but it’s a good story.”

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

“Good enough.” Obito smiled.

 

It wasn’t long before Obito left. Rin would need to leave soon for her painting class and Mari needed to be watched after. All the while, Obito smiled, hopeful as the boy Kakashi remembered. They would see each other again, he said, soon. And then when the time was right, he’d convince Rin it was fine to have dinner all together. He could see Mari soon, too. Everything would be fixed. Kakashi smiled all along.

 

Now by himself, Kakashi took the long way out of the park and back to the bookshop. He stopped to buy dinner for Sakura. At the shop, a dog keychain caught his eye and he bought it for her. It would make her smile, and it did -- when he put it down on the desk with the food, she eyed it carefully until he said it was hers. She dangled it in front of her eyes and then slid it into her keyring with a smile so large he almost laughed. 

 

“What’s gotten into you?” Sakura asked. “You don’t do gifts.”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “A little change is good sometimes. Do you not like it? I can take it back.”

 

“You will not. It’s mine now.”

 

Before they could eat, she went upstairs for a bathroom break. She left her purse on the desk. Kakashi stared at it until he finally sighed and reached inside it for her phone. She still had the second phone she’d used when they met. She would be back quickly, so he lost no time in opening the Facebook program. He went straight into her profile and his heart stopped in his chest when he read the name. 

 

“No. No, no.”

 

_ Haruno Umeko. _ Breathing heavily through his nose, he went through her pictures and found exactly what he should have known from the beginning -- Sasuke and Sakura did share their life. He put the phone on his desk and hurried outside. Of course she had been with him. He barely managed to open the door before he vomited on the concrete at his feet. Sakura was just coming down the stairs and ran to his side.

 

“Kakashi! Are you okay?”

 

Kakashi batted her hands away and, when she tried to help him stand straight, shoved her away from him. Sakura stumbled back and fell, gasping.  _ Shit _ . She sat where she fell, cradling a large, bleeding scrape on her thigh. 

 

“What is wrong with you?!”

 

He hadn’t meant to hurt her -- of course he hadn’t. The Sakura he knew, the one he sparred with, could handle his strength. Whether he was twice her size or not, she could handle it all. But not here.

 

“Your  _ name _ ,” Kakashi rasped. “You  _ lied about your name _ .”

 

“So what?” Sakura shouted, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I wonder why I didn’t tell you! Look at yourself!”

 

Kakashi hurried past her and up the stairs. Sakura followed him.

 

“Kakashi! Just wait!”

 

“Go home, Sakura.”

 

He shut and locked the door before Sakura made it to the top of the stairs. While she screamed and begged him to let her in, Kakashi pressed his back to the door. In their world, she would have broken it down like a house of cards, but here, a mere piece of wood was enough to stop her. Through the door, she tried to tell him that it didn’t matter what had happened. He had done nothing to her or Sasuke. It hadn’t been him -- but Kakashi didn’t believe it. She had said it before; they essentially shared souls with their counterpart. He  _ had _ done those things. He was  _ able _ to go so low. 

 

Kakashi walked to the sink, gripping the edge of it so hard his knuckles turned white. The box was still there. And it called to him -- or Kobayashi, but what did it matter -- promised an escape from all of this. Wiping a palm down his face, Kakashi laughed. What more did he have to lose? He took the box out, grabbed whatever number of pills felt right and swallowed them. Dry as his throat was, they stuck there, so he washed them with vodka and lied on his bed. 

 

For most his life, he had comforted himself with his favorite motto:  _ those who break the rules are scum, but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum _ . So he broke rules for friends, because it was the right -- the  _ good _ \-- thing to do, and for what? He was worse than scum. He was worse than both of those scums combined. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

When Kakashi woke up, the world came crashing down on him -- crashing down with all the weight of his mistakes and misfortunes. For a time, for such a short time, he had been able to believe it all wasn’t so terrible, that he could be happy -- that he  _ was _ happy. His friends had died but left with him a wonderful gift: the knowledge of just how important life really was. Knowledge he’d used to save Sasuke’s life together with Naruto and Sakura. He’d been afforded the presence of his students in his life, of Gai, Yamato, and the entire village to look up to him. What more could he possibly ask?

 

But he opened his eyes and he knew it was all a lie, a fantasy brought on by the pills, and now he understood.

 

He swung his legs over the bed, sluggish and struggling like a fish out of water. Vodka would help, so he drank, but it didn’t. He always said it did. When his stomach churned too hard, he searched for food and found bread to snack on. He relied too much on takeout -- and takeout sounded perfect, so he would go get it. Fresh air would be good.

 

When he opened the door, Sakura nearly fell backwards with it, but caught herself. She looked up at him, rubbing at her eyes.

 

“Kakashi?”

 

She was still there. He didn’t know what time it was, only that the moon was high in the sky. 

 

“Kakashi… are you okay?”

 

She stood up and reached out for him, but didn’t dare touch him. Standing there, she waited for him to speak. Waited for him to reach out and take the hand she was offering, all warmth. And if she wasn’t the most beautiful thing he had seen, he didn’t know what else it could be. He exhaled, sliding one hand to the back of her neck. She placed a hand on his side, staring up at him.

 

“You scared me.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Sakura pulled him into her arms, burying her nose in his sweater. Before now, he had never thought much of her hugs -- she hugged and crushed everyone. It was Sakura. But she had never done it to him, not before this world. He’d never given her a chance to. Swallowing against his dry throat, he returned her embrace and pressed his cheek to her hair. 

 

Once they could let go of each other, he led her inside and to the counter. She sat there and he retrieved all he needed to tend to her wounded thigh. She could have done it better by herself, but she let him take care of it instead. He wondered if Sakura’s thighs were this soft as well and chuckled; she knew most of his body like the back of her hand after all the times she’d healed and examined him. 

 

Thigh bandaged, he stood to meet her eyes. He looked at her, her eyes, her nose, her lips. 

 

Sakura brushed her fingertips against his cheek, up to his ear. “I’ve finally seen your face.”

 

“You have.”

 

She smiled, eyes watching his when he avoided hers. 

 

“It’s okay, Kakashi,” she said. “Really.”

 

“Is it?”

 

She nodded. Kakashi cupped her cheek, tangling his fingers in her hair. He stepped closer, between her thighs, and Sakura let him. He cupped her other cheek and leaned down to kiss her. Sakura allowed him this as well.

 

“I need you,” he whispered. “I need you to remember this isn’t my life.”

 

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Kakashi shut his eyes, inhaling a trembling breath. Sakura wrapped his arms around him and he kissed her again, and it was over -- he surrendered to the voice. He ran his fingers down her body, up her thighs and hips. Sakura was quiet against him, fingers gripping his shirt. Looking down at her eyes, her parted lips, listening to her soft breaths…They both knew which keys to use when and how to use things they had never seen before; Kobayashi longed for Umeko, but so did Umeko. The voice wasn’t his alone. She heard it too.

 

When he carried her to the bed, she hummed in surprise and clung to him. He kissed her neck, her chest, her thighs, and she helped him out of his shirt. Naked against him, she locked her thighs around his hips and bit her lip -- that same way she bit her lip when she asked him for something he shouldn’t give her. Reaching for a condom crossed his mind, but condoms be damned. He wanted to  _ feel _ her, so he sank into her, and she shuddered under him, mouth parting with a slow moan. She was wet, ready for him -- no stranger to his touch. She came easily when he put in the effort, moaning into his mouth. Kakashi followed soon after. He pressed his forehead to hers, grunting as he throbbed and came inside her. 

 

For a time, they lied together in bed, peaceful, until Sakura said she needed to shower, her makeup probably looked horrible -- and it did. He followed her to the bathroom and she hesitated before starting the shower. Under the hot water, she scrubbed at her face, and Kakashi watched. After all of this, he still hadn’t seen her naked face yet. When she turned around, looking up at him on the verge of tears, he understood why. With the dark bags under her eyes, her uneven skin and chapped lips, she couldn’t compare to Sakura’s flawless and, as far as he could tell, natural beauty. 

 

He said nothing and took his turn under the water while Sakura lathered her hair. 

 

“Do you want to know?”

 

Kakashi held his breath under the water a beat longer, then nodded. 

 

“I lied when I said we woke up the same way,” she began, picking at an imaginary itch on her shoulder. “I was trying to overdose on antidepressants -- which is ridiculous because that barely ever works, and I should know -- I woke up with the bottle in hand, empty, and this awful sticky feeling in my throat. So I threw up all I could. I ended up in the hospital for  _ weeks _ .” She paused, brushing away shampoo suds that ran down her forehead. “I was sick and I couldn’t understand. It made no sense. It did when I got back home, though.”

 

Kakashi sighed. He knew what she was about to say -- yet another punch he knew was coming but tried his best to ignore.

 

“Those pills you sell... I use them. You sold them -- gave them --  to me.”

 

Kakashi ran his hands through his hair, eyes shut. Sakura stepped closer, so close her breasts brushed against his ribs when she reached for his hands. 

 

“That’s not how we met, though.”

 

“How?”

 

“I never knew who you were, but you knew me. You came to my apartment and gave me a book. You told me about your favorite place to read. It’s her favorite book now, you know.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“One of Jiraiya’s love stories. It really isn’t all that bad,” she chuckled. “It’s got a happy ending. You said you were advertising your bookshop, but you were lying.”

 

“Naturally.”

 

Sakura laughed. “Yes. And I must have been desperate because I did go to that place in the park, and then every Saturday, and I started buying your stupid books.”

 

“Not a half bad beginning for a love story,” Kakashi said, then caught himself. “If it was a book.”

 

“It’s sweet,” Sakura breathed, touching the stubble on his cheek. “The rest is pretty simple. We became friends, and a bit more, and I decided to take what you were selling. You didn’t want me to, but I knew you used them, so I wanted to.”

 

Kakashi turned them around and began rinsing Sakura’s hair and the suds on her forehead. Eyes closed, Sakura held onto his shoulders. 

 

“I stole your pills.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You do?”

 

Kakashi’s lips twisted into a smirk he tried to contain. “You weren’t as subtle as you thought. I can count.”

 

“Of course you’d be that thorough,” Sakura sighed. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I understand.”

 

He really was in no position to berate her. 

 

He rinsed the rest of her hair and washed her back. She was ticklish near the curve of her hips and he abused the knowledge -- just a little. Sakura shrieked and tried to bat his hands away, but then resorted to slapping at his chest, so he grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the wall. She made a noise in the back of her throat and he loosened his hold, whispering an apology in her ear. She said she understood. He would adjust and it would be fine. He let her go.

 

Smiling, Sakura ran a hand down his chest, stopping to feel his scars. “You look so different. It’s so odd.”

 

Kakashi hummed, catching her hand in his.

 

“You usually take such good care of your body. Even Naruto isn’t fit like you. He’s not as lean either.” When he said nothing, she continued, “It’s fine not to be that perfect, you know. It’s completely unnecessary here, anyway…” She smiled and ran her fingers along the line of his bicep. “You’re not in terrible shape, either. You still look good.”

 

Now he smiled too. “I  _ still _ look good?”

 

Sakura’s cheeks turned red. “Oh, come on. It’s impossible not to have an opinion when I basically see you naked at least once a year.”

 

“Dirty, dirty, Sakura-chan.”

 

He teased her some more -- and she hit him some more -- and they smiled for a while longer. Out of the shower, he lent her a t-shirt to sleep in. It was an odd sight, but cute enough that he didn’t mind it so much. He retrieved the box from under the sink and handed her the pills Tsunade had brought for the girl. Sakura stared at him, frowning in confusion.

 

“They were for you,” he said, and paused. “He wanted to give them to her instead of the other pills. To help her.”

 

Sakura took the bag and inspected them. “You don’t know what they are, do you? I don’t recognize them.”

 

He shook his head. 

 

“You were just going to switch the pills?”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “I didn’t make the plan.”

 

Sakura hummed and swallowed one of the pills right away. Tsunade had been right -- it was an awful plan. Umeko would likely have recognized them immediately with her background, but Kobayashi must have been desperate. 

 

Before they went back to bed, Kakashi took a last sip of the vodka, and Sakura extended her hand for the bottle. He considered refusing, but reevaluated his choice when she gave him a look just  _ daring _ him to tell her what to do, so they both drank a little more and settled in bed when the sky began turning a lighter blue.

 

…

 

When morning -- or the afternoon, rather -- had come and Kakashi woke up with Sakura in his arms, he felt he might throw up again. He went straight to the shower, careful not to wake her. When he had come out of the shower, Sakura was awake and wore her own clothes. She had proposed they go for a run together, smiling. He didn’t know how she could smile, so he turned her down, pretending there were errands to be run on Sundays, and left with nowhere to really go to.

 

Because it was Sunday, he ended his wandering by eating with Nami. She talked as she always did and he wished she didn’t. When she went to change, he received another picture and shut his phone without looking at it. While they walked, Nami slid her arm around his and matched his steps. 

 

“So did you have a good week?”

 

Kakashi stopped and Nami stumbled forward before she turned to him, frowning. 

 

“I slept with someone else.”

 

Nami’s mouth opened, just enough to whisper something, but she was silent. She forced a half smile. “It’s not my business who you sleep with.”

 

But she cared. 

 

“Should we go see a movie instead? It’d be different.”

 

Kakashi followed her if only to make sure Nami would not be going to his apartment tonight. Sakura just might be sleeping against his door again and having the two meet was not a part of his plans. During the movie, Nami tried to touch his hand, but he pulled it away and leaned his cheek on it. He took out his phone and sent Sakura a text.

 

_ Are you still there? _

 

_ Yes. Are you coming back soon? _

 

_ Go home. _

 

From the corner of his eye, he could see Nami watching him. After a few minutes, his phone vibrated again.

 

_ Okay. I left. Don’t worry about last night. It’s fine.  _

 

Kakashi chuckled. She hadn’t looked so fine when she woke up, even if she smiled. Sakura was a liar. He might avoid everyone, but she met them with a smile whether she hated or loved them. She’d come to him here lying and hadn’t stopped since. The truth only mattered to her when it didn’t concern her. 

 

Nami followed him all the way home, silent. She was silent still when he took out the box and swallowed a pill.  _ No more drugs _ , she had said. True to her word, she took none. Kakashi lied down on his bed, facing the wall and window and disappeared as he could under the blanket. Nami stood by the door for a time, then joined him. She ran a hand up and down his back, and it was warm even if it had been cold outside.

 

...

 

Every evening of the week, Sakura visited him. She sat on his desk and had dinner with him and read a book. If he felt she might talk, he stared all the way up her legs to where her skirt met her thighs and settled there for a moment before meeting her eyes. It was enough to keep her silent. She would avoid looking at him and pretend to read her book again. Sometimes she was braver, so he focused on her lips, or her the curve of her collar towards her breasts, whatever was enough to quiet her. 

 

Friday offered relief, even if brief, in the moment between he closed the shop and when Yamato came. He was alone and could drink without hiding the vodka in a bottle of water. Silence and loneliness. Exactly what he needed. If he could have visited the cenotaph, it just might have been a perfect evening. Surrounded by the trees and the scent of the earth, he could be calm. Elsewhere. 

 

When Yamato came inside, he stopped smiling. Clothes littered the floor and he hadn’t bothered to throw away the containers of the takeout he’d eaten all week. He couldn’t even smell it, so what did it matter? They sat on his bed as they did and ate. Yamato fidgeted with his beer more than he drank. Kakashi stopped eating. Yamato was his oldest friend -- or the oldest one that remained and he did consider a true friend. His only friend. In Konoha, they would spend an evening together every week or two when no missions called their name -- and it was often in the recent years with the peace that had settled -- just like they did here. They were brothers. He didn’t need a blood sibling to know what it meant. 

 

“I relapsed.”

 

It was the easiest way to describe it. He didn’t know what it was.

 

Yamato nodded, silent. 

 

Neither of them finished their dinner. Yamato tore at the label of his bottle until his beer had grown warm and Kakashi picked at his noodles without eating another one.

 

“It’s okay,” Yamato finally said. “You’ll get back on your feet again.”

 

Kakashi finished the rest of his beer. He was beyond buzzed, but not drunk quite yet. He should have been after drinking so much. 

 

“Right?”

 

Staring down at the bottle, Kakashi sighed. “I’m a piece of shit.”

 

“You’re not.”

 

Kakashi laughed. “Really?”

 

“You’ve got your flaws,” Yamato said, “but I love you. The thought of not having you in my life kills me.”

 

“It shouldn’t.”

 

Yamato looked up at him. “And why not?”

 

“Because I’m worse than scum,” Kakashi said. “And you don’t even know why.”

 

“The drugs? The alcohol? What happened with Obito?” Yamato said, listing them blandly. “It’s only a part of you. What about the part of you that took Sasuke in? That accepted me as a brother when your father adopted me?” 

 

“I got Sasuke killed,” Kakashi said. “He died because of me.”

 

Yamato tore off the last of the label. “You didn’t. It wasn’t supposed to go that way.”

 

“He’s still dead.”

 

“Sasuke pressured you into finding that deal for him. He’s the one who got himself killed. And for what?” Yamato scoffed. “ _ Money. _ Just money. He almost got  _ you _ killed -- it’s the other way around.”

 

Kakashi stuck his chopsticks in his food. Sasuke had always been greedy.

 

“If anything,  _ he’s  _ the piece of shit -- he almost killed you, after all you did for him, after -- it’s because of  _ him _ you’re like this now and I’ll never -- “

 

“I slept with his girlfriend.”

 

Yamato’s voice died, mouth still open. 

 

“Umeko. Do you remember her?”

 

“I’ve met her once, at the school,” Yamato managed to say. “You… slept with her?”

 

Kakashi nodded. “For months. I still see her. Often.”

 

Yamato couldn’t say anything.

 

“She doesn’t even know who I am.” He looked at Yamato now. “I  _ am _ a piece of shit.”

 

Yamato frowned. After a moment, he found his voice again. “Why? Why her?”

 

“I don’t know,” Kakashi breathed. He paused, staring at his empty bottle. “Because she knew how I felt. I didn’t have to say anything to her. Being with her was easy and somehow sex seemed like the logical progression. It felt natural. Because she smiles even when she sees the worst sides of me.”

 

Maybe that had been why Kobayashi did it. He couldn’t know. 

 

Yamato fell silent for a time. “Do you love her?”

 

Kakashi shook his head. “I don’t.”

 

If he did, he wouldn’t throw up at the idea of having slept with her or leave her to sleep on his balcony. 

 

“I…” Yamato sighed. “I don’t really know what to say. If it helps you both move forward in some way…”

 

Kakashi snorted. “Forever optimistic.”

 

“Better than forever pessimistic.”

 

They didn’t say much for the rest of the evening. Yamato didn’t drink and Kakashi did. When Yamato left, Kakashi did too. Fresh air and a walk would help clear his mind. He walked in the city, turning on streets he didn’t know, only stopping for the affectionate stray cat he found. He bought it food and sat with it while it ate, petting its bony back. Sitting there, he thought of Sakura -- or Umeko, he couldn’t tell -- and how she would make the cold more bearable. She would smile at him and make him think it was alright just for a moment. He didn’t have to do anything -- maybe bring her a book, just once -- and she would be there. Warm.

 

Kakashi laughed, startling the cat. He was delusional. It must be all the vodka and the beer speaking. He stood and petted the cat a last time before leaving. He found a bar and sat inside with another beer. It almost felt like home. He could sit somewhere, alone, and no one would care. Because it was what Kakashi did. He sat alone and went home alone. Sometimes he ate with his old team to make them happy, and it made him smile, and left before the evening ended. Yamato or Gai or Naruto or even Sakura would berate him for it, insisting he missed the best part and that it would have been fun. He would have enjoyed it. 

 

“Rough evening?”

 

Kakashi looked up to the bartender. She was another young girl, either Sakura’s or Nami’s age. Why girls their age took any interest in him was beyond him, so he hummed in the response.

 

“Cheer up, honey,” she chuckled, leaning her elbows on the bar. “We’ve got alcohol and peanuts. That’s all one needs in life.”

 

She wasn’t quite wrong.

 

She winked at him. “And company. A guy like you, that can’t be hard to find.”

 

“I don’t want company.”

 

She laughed and rocked on her feet, swinging her hips side to side. She was smiling, playful. “Of course you don’t. Who comes here for company.”

 

Kakashi finished his beer. She refilled it and pushed an extra bowl of peanuts in front of him. He ate them. 

 

“So what’s your name, sweetheart?”

 

He stared in his beer for a moment. “Kobayashi.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Weeks had gone by and Kakashi didn’t count them. If he could remember how many times he’d seen Yamato and Nami, he could know, but he couldn’t. All he knew was that Yamato was here again today, knocking at his door with more groceries he’d leave to rot in the fridge. Takeout had become his best friend. Yamato brought them anyway and spent the evening with him. They were rather quiet lately, but Kakashi didn’t mind it. It felt like home.

 

A knock on the door interrupted them and it was Sakura. At the sight of Yamato and she muttered an apology and turned on her heels, but Kakashi opened the door wider for her. They both knew each other, he said, so what did it matter. Sakura and Yamato exchanged strained greetings and did their best to make polite conversation. Yamato left earlier than he usually did. 

 

Alone with her, he sat on his bed. She wore the pleated skirt again and it didn’t fail to set fire to his imagination once more. He could go to her where she sat on his desk, slide his hand between her legs and watch until she moaned for him and he lost all patience he had. Maybe if he took another pill he could believe it was alright to think of her this way. He’d already fucked her, what would one more time change? 

 

Sakura ran her fingers over the stack of paper Obito had given him and asked about it. She was surprised, but it made sense to her the same way it did for him. They both knew Naruto. He hadn’t touched the book yet, so he couldn’t answer when Sakura asked what the story was, if it resembled theirs. He stood, close to her, flipping through the pages too fast to read. His other hand was on Sakura’s thigh, inching higher and higher until they met with the skirt. Sakura fell silent, still and waiting. Instead of moving, he pretended to read. Sakura tugged at his sleeve and he ignored it. 

 

“Kakashi…”

 

She scooted closer to him, pressing her thigh against his. Sighing, Kakashi stepped between her thighs. She looked up at him, hands on his shirt, and she wasn’t smiling today. She slid her arms under his shirt and wrapped them around his back, cheek to his chest. 

 

“What are you doing, Sakura?”

 

Through his shirt, he could feel her short, uneven breaths. 

 

“You remember when you said you needed me?” she whispered. “To remember this isn’t our life?”

 

He nodded. But it was no longer true. 

 

“Well I do too.”

 

“So you want me to sleep with you?” he said. “You think that will help?”

 

Sakura sniffed and pulled one of her hands away from him to rub at her eyes. She no longer wore so much makeup. Her skin had improved. “I don’t know. I don’t… I just need you. And you’ve been -- you’ve been… I don’t know. But I…”

 

“You should go home, Sakura.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it won’t help.”

 

“Then don’t sleep with me. Just stay with me.”

 

He tried to pull away, but Sakura held onto his shirt. 

 

“For fuck’s safe, Kakashi,” she half-sobbed, half-shouted, “would you just  _ stop _ ?”

 

“Stop  _ what? _ ” Kakashi said. “Being me?”

 

“We’ve got to find a way back. There’s got to be a way. We can’t stay here forever.”

 

Kakashi stepped away from her and sat on his bed. “Good luck with that.”

 

Sakura’s lips trembled. She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. “I can’t believe you,” she finally yelled, jumping to her feet. “Are you serious?”

 

Kakashi said nothing.

 

“You’ve got to get a fucking grip, Kakashi!” She slammed her fist on his desk, but it didn’t splinter. She spouted more curses and held her hand. “Get your head out of your ass and just  _ do _ something already!” 

 

“Go home.”

 

“Suit yourself then.”

 

Sakura left, slamming the door behind her. Kakashi took pills from his box, vodka from the nightstand, and lied in bed.

 

...

 

Even when he stopped going to the restaurant, Nami persisted. She would come to him with his curry once she was done with work and would play another movie on his computer. He didn’t remember the endings -- he usually fell asleep before. Tonight again, she was in his bed, back to his chest, and played with the hairs on his arm. He never cared for the movies she chose. Their tastes were entirely different. He rolled onto his back, wishing for sleep to claim him. Nami turned to him and ran her hand up and down his chest. She sat in his lap, kissing her way down to the waistband of his pants. They hadn’t had sex in a while -- he always fell asleep too soon -- and he preferred it that way. This time, he let her do whatever she wanted. After tonight, she wouldn’t try again. 

 

She took him in her mouth while he was soft still. With enough encouragement, he grew somewhat hard. His dick didn’t care what he thought, naturally, but he’d always been headstrong. Satisfied enough, Nami tried to guide him into her. It felt oddly like the first time he had sex. Then or now, he had no drive to do it. No desire for the woman with him. Curiosity had been enough to make him go through with it then. Nami did her best, but it was no use. She’d managed to slide the tip of him inside and just squeezed the rest. It was rather uncomfortable.

 

Nami sighed. “You don’t even care, do you?”

 

Kakashi said nothing.

 

“Did anything happen?” Nami asked. “You were different before. You wanted me here. You said so yourself.”

 

“Nothing happened.”

 

“Is it the other woman you’re sleeping with? You like her?”

 

Kakashi shook his head.

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Something happened. It’s written all over your face. You just won’t tell me. You never tell me anything.”

 

“You can go home if it doesn’t suit you. Talking wasn’t our agreement.”

 

“And limp dick wasn’t our agreement either. Fuck you.” She slid off of him and began dressing. “We had no agreement. Not after… after we talked. I came here for you. Because I  _ wanted _ to see you, because you know what? You made me feel like I mattered. Like I could be something to you, even if it was just to help you through a rough time.”

 

Kakashi stared at the ceiling. She would leave soon.

 

“You don’t even care, do you?” Nami sighed. “You never cared. Not about me. I was stupid to think you might. You want to know why I came to you in the first place?” She paused, but continued even when he offered no positive answer. “My life was shit, okay? My father took me for a fucking punching bag, you know that? After my mom left. And he -- “

 

“You never had bruises.”

 

“It’s called  _ makeup _ .” She scoffed. “He got a job overseas, anyway. And you know that day where I was feeling like shit and you didn’t even ask?” 

 

He remembered.

 

“He died. He finally died. I should have been happy, but I wasn’t. Not yet. It just fucked with my head even more. And then I realized -- I’m free. I’m finally free. And I can do whatever I want and I’ll never let anyone or anything fuck with me like that again. So I decided I wanted more of you. Because you were good to me and I thought it’d be a good idea.”

 

“It clearly wasn’t.”

 

Nami nodded and put on her jacket. “You think you’re the only one who’s suffering. Like your problems are so much grander than everyone else’s. Like it justifies you being an asshole and pushing away everyone who cares for you.”

 

She would leave soon. It wouldn’t be long. 

 

“Well, you got what you want. Enjoy.”

 

Finally, she left, slamming the door behind her like Sakura had.

 

...

 

At Obito’s doorstep, Kakashi stared at his hands and sighed. Obito had called the previous week and insisted he come to dinner today. It had taken a little convincing -- and some bribing, Kakashi assumed -- but Rin had finally agreed to a dinner together. Sakura had been with him at the time and, naturally, been excited for him. If anything, she said, he could get closure, and he agreed. Now his head pounded and he wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep, but he knocked on the door anyway. With some luck, there would be wine or beer with dinner and it would dull his pains.

 

Sitting at the table with Rin and Obito, Kakashi spent more time picking his dinner apart than eating. Nausea and food rarely mixed well -- he knew from experience. Obito offered more conversation than he could return, but no alcohol. Rin did her best to pretend she wasn’t really avoiding him. 

 

“Rin’s a great cook, isn’t she?”

 

She really was. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Rin had always busied herself with more than any normal human could handle. Projects upon projects filled every second of her time. 

 

“You are.”

 

Rin smiled for Obito. “Thank you.”

 

Kakashi ate as much as he could handle. The dinner Rin had prepared was elaborate and must have taken more time than he was worth. Letting it go to waste wouldn’t be right.

 

“That painting there is hers, too, you know,” Obito said, smirking as he pointed to it. “I always tell her -- “

 

“You’re talented at being talented,” Rin chuckled. “You shouldn’t say that in front of other people. It’s embarrassing.”

 

“He’s not wrong,” Kakashi said.

 

“Look who’s speaking,” Rin said. “You were always better than me at everything we did together. You’ve always been the genius.”

 

“Genius isn’t all there is to it.” Kakashi ran his fingers along the rim of his glass. “It’s what you do with it that matters.”

 

Silence fell between them. After a moment, Obito cleared his throat and stood, claiming now would be a good time to bring out the childhood pictures. Rin had made a great scrapbook out of them. He left them there, alone. Kakashi stared into his glass. 

 

Rin was beautiful. She had always been. She had never been the kind of girl to turn heads and that men liked to whistle at, but she was perfect. Every part of her fit together and nothing stood out. Her hair was pretty, as were her eyes and her lips. Her dress tucked in at the waist, following the attractive but subtle curve of her hips. Charming was a perfect word for her. 

 

“Obito says you’ve been doing well.”

 

Kakashi nodded.

 

Rin twisted her fork between her fingers. Once upon a time, Rin had loved him. He’d always known -- he’d never been blind nor stupid. But Obito had loved her and Kakashi had protected that love. Had things been different, had Obito survived -- would he have pursued Rin? Naruto, Sasuke, all of them, had formed families with children of their own. If he had followed such a path, Rin might have been the woman in his family pictures. The woman with whom he would have conceived an heir to the clan he had long abandoned. 

 

Obito came back with the picture book long after they stopped talking. He urged them to the living room so they could sit together and forced Kakashi in the middle. Rin leaned in closer to get a good look at the pictures and Kakashi stared at them. 

 

“Remember when we graduated?” Obito said, pointing to a photo where they couldn’t have been older than thirteen. “That’s the last class we had all together. I really missed it.”

 

“You two used to fight almost every day,” Rin said, subdued laughter in her tone. “I don’t miss it.”

 

Obito flipped through the pages one by one. Every few pages, they aged a year, then another one, until they were all adults. Obito and Rin had married young; they’d just started college. 

 

“Your hair was still black then,” Obito laughed. “It turned grey so fast.”

 

Kakashi hummed. It was fine that way.

 

“I don’t mind the grey,” Rin said. “I think it fits you well. If you’d just comb it, it might be better.”

 

The more recent the pages, the less Kakashi appeared in the pictures, until he simply stopped. It unsettled Kakashi’s stomach in the strangest of way; in the world he knew, he had lived without them, and here they without him. They were happy. 

 

Rin placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”

 

It was the second time she asked him -- Obito had already said yes. He nodded.

 

Before long, Rin returned with cups of coffee and a plate of lemon tarts she had likely made herself. For old times’ sake, Obito had proposed watching a movie of Kakashi’s choice. He was the one with a nose for the good ones and had always chosen the movie they would watch together at the end of the week. They sat in silence until the end of it and Rin praised his selection skills.

 

The evening was stretching into the night by then, so Kakashi used it as an excuse to take his leave. Standing with Obito at the door, he shoved his hands in his pockets, itching for Icha Icha to hide his face into.

 

“It was really nice seeing you,” Obito said, “I think Rin is happy too. We should do this again -- “

 

“I’m not sober.”

 

Obito’s smile fell.

 

“I was for a time. Not anymore.” Kakashi watched the battle that played out on Obito’s face and put him out of his misery. “I won’t call you anymore. It’s fine.”

 

“That’s not…” Obito sighed, rubbing a palm over his cheek. “It’s not what I want. None of this is what I want.”

 

“It’s how it is. I haven’t held up my end of the bargain. So this is goodbye.”

 

Kakashi turned on his heel and walked. Obito called his name once, then twice. One step at a time, Kakashi walked away until he couldn’t hear Obito’s voice anymore.

 

...

 

In the middle of the night as it was, Kakashi had thought Sakura would have headed home -- but she was stubborn. She slept against his door once more and he had no choice but to wake her if he wanted to sleep in his own bed. Inside his apartment, she stretched out the kinks in her back and sat on his desk. Kakashi fell into bed. Sleep was long overdue.

 

“How did it go?”

 

“I want to sleep, Sakura.”

 

Sakura paused. He heard her stand and then felt her sit beside him on the bed. “I didn’t want you to be alone after that.”

 

“Being alone is exactly what I want.”

 

“No it’s not,” Sakura said.

 

Kakashi looked at her over his shoulder. “Just go home.”

 

“I know it’s not. Why were you so happy when you realized I was me, then?” Kakashi said nothing and she continued, “You were  _ happy _ I was here. That you weren’t alone. And I was too.”

 

“And how is that supposed to mean I should be glad you sleep at my doorstep?”

 

“Because it means I care,” Sakura whispered. 

 

She lied down with him, pressing her chest to his back, and held him, warm even through the blanket. After a moment, Kakashi turned to face her. Tonight, Sakura didn’t smile for him. She watched him in silence, eyes shimmering. He cupped her cheek and stroked it with his thumb, staring into her eyes. Sakura did care. More than anyone, she always had. It was what had driven him to comfort her any chance he got to begin with. But she was here, on the verge of tears because of him. He had never been of any real comfort to her.

 

“I don’t want you to be here,” Kakashi said. Hurt flashed in her eyes. “Every time I look at you -- I know what I’ve done and I can’t avoid it.”

 

“So what if there’s nothing to us but fucked up here,” Sakura said, scooting close enough for their noses to brush together. “Being with you is better. You’re all I have left.”

 

Kakashi brushed his lips against her cheek, inching down towards her lips. “Every time I see you this is what I want.” He ran a hand down the length of her side and grabbed her hip to pull her tighter against him. “And when you wear that skirt it drives me mad -- I just want…”

 

“Want what?” Sakura breathed against his lips, hands tangled into his sweater. 

 

He rolled them over and slid his hands up her thighs until he reached the hem of her underwear and gave it a forceful tug. “This.”

 

Under him, Sakura remained silent, malleable to his touch. She watched him, lips parted and breathing strained, waiting. He rolled her hips into hers and she gasped when she felt him hard against her -- he knew she was ready for him. All he had to do was push down his pants and she’d take him willingly.

 

“But then I remember who are you and who you were,” Kakashi whispered into her ear, “and I know I’m trash and just the thought of wanting you makes me sick.”

 

“You’re not,” Sakura breathed, cupping his cheeks so he would look at her. “You’re not trash.”

 

“You know everything I’ve done. In this life and in mine. I’m not above it any of it. Even now -- look at us. I’m about to fuck you again. Even if you were my student, you’re too young, and my friend’s wife.”

 

Sakura fell silent and avoided his eyes. 

 

“I want none of this life.”

 

“And why not?” Sakura said, coming back to life. She frowned and grabbed his collar. “You’ve got me. You’ve got the friends you lost, Yondaime-sama, and even Yamato! What’s so bad about it?”

 

Kakashi said nothing.

 

“Say something!” Sakura’s voice rose. “You’ve got everything you could ever wish for, so why are you here beating yourself up over it instead of -- instead of enjoying it as much as you can?”

 

“Because I’m trash.”

 

“Bullshit!” Sakura struggled under him until she managed to push him off of her. She stood up, clumsily adjusting her underwear. “That is such  _ bullshit _ ! I can’t take it anymore. You’ve got it  _ so, so _ good and you’re just wasting it. I can’t believe you!”

 

“I’ve got it  _ good _ ? What is  _ good _ about all the shit I’ve done?”

 

“I’m not saying you’re an angel -- clearly you’re  _ not _ \-- I’m saying you don’t do shit with what you’re given. You prefer to lie down and kick yourself. I’m so sick of it.”

 

“And what does it matter to you?”

 

“Oh, that’s  _ rich _ .” Sakura scoffed. “I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want you to feel the way you do? I’d rather you use what you have -- “

 

“What is it you think I have?” Kakashi stood up and walked to her until she backed into his desk. “Tell me if you know me so well. Because all I see are people that died back to life and they still want nothing to do with me.”

 

Sakura laughed. “Oh, right,  _ they _ want nothing to do with you. Of course you have nothing. That’s how you like to see yourself. That’s why you have your own pity party alone while we all go out for ramen or celebrate someone’s birthday. I’ve never met someone as self-centered as you -- and I’m married to Sasuke.” She shoved him back a step, and Kakashi frowned, catching her hand. “Even here. It’s all about you, isn’t it? When have you asked  _ me _ how I felt? You don’t. Because you think you’re the only one suffering, that if others suffered they’d be as fucked up as you are -- but let me tell you, they’re not. Not all of them.”

 

“And you’re in a position -- “

 

“I  _ am _ !” She fought against his hold but Kakashi contained her outburst. “For fuck’s sake! Are you saying Naruto shouldn’t be happy either because of what he’s lost? Or Shishou or Shikamaru or Ino -- they’ve all lost a lot. It’s how we live. And you think I’m not suffering now?” She pulled her hands away and choked out a laugh. “I’ve lost my life too, you know? All the friends I had. Naruto. All the skills I had that made me  _ me _ . I have a  _ desk job _ . No chakra. I can’t do shit. I can’t even defend myself against you when you get forceful -- and I don’t even know if I’ll ever see my daughter ever again and -- “

 

Tears and sobs took over Sakura and wiped at her eyes, sitting back on the desk. Kakashi stood before her, watching her cry and try as she could to keep herself together.  

 

“And my husband is  _ dead _ .”

 

“That changes nothing for you.”

 

Sakura’s eyes shot up to stare at him. “What?”

 

Kakashi looked off to the side. He hadn’t meant to say it -- ever. “Sasuke is as dead as he is here. You have no marriage with him.”

 

“How -- how can you say that?” Sakura chest heaved and heaved until another wave of sobs rocked her frame. “He’s not home often, but -- “

 

“You said so yourself. We are the same here as we are home -- and you waste your time and your talent and  _ everything _ you have on him. The only good thing to ever come out of your union was Sarada. You accuse me of wasting everything I have  _ here _ , but that’s exactly what you do home. Look at your life here -- you cling to him so much that you gave up on everything else.”

 

“And now is when you decide to tell me that,” Sakura laughed, covering her eyes with her palms. “Because it’s absolutely the perfect time, isn’t it? Kick me while I’m down so I don’t think about you anymore?”

 

It wouldn’t be much longer until she left, he knew -- he’d said enough already. She sat there, crying and sobbing, unable to speak. He had said it would be alright. They would go back home. Everything would be fine. But it was all the same, in the end. He lied.

 

“Sakura. Don’t cry -- “

 

She swatted his hand away when he tried to touch her shoulder. “Don’t cry, it’ll be alright, right? You don’t believe any of it. You don’t think we’ll ever go home.”

 

“That’s beside the point.” He caught both her wrists in one hand when she fought against his touch. Squeezing her shoulder, he looked down into her eyes. “Don’t cry.”

 

‘Why not? What else is there to do?”

 

“There’s Pumpkin.”

 

Sakura struggled against him again and growled in frustration when she couldn’t break his hold. When her knee connected with his stomach, Kakashi stumbled back and grabbed his side, struggling for a breath.

 

“I don’t want your stupid jokes now,” Sakura shouted as she stood and headed for the door. “You wanted to be alone, right? So enjoy it. I won’t and -- “ Sakura swiped fresh tears from her eyes. “ -- and I know you won’t either. Because you’re not like that -- but I can’t stand seeing you now.”

 

Sakura left and his door was slammed yet another time. Kakashi grunted in pain when he moved to the bed; Sakura might have been weaker, but she still knew exactly where and how to hit. Bottle of vodka in hand, he lied down in his bed. Tomorrow would be another day.

 

…

 

Kakashi woke to his phone’s ringing. Groaning, he read the text message he’d received. It was Sakura. She would come by today to buy a book. He was late to open the bookshop again. After a hurried shower and improvised breakfast, he went downstairs with his bottle of water and the morning was quiet, as Saturdays always were, until it was almost two and the bell rang. Sakura was finally here -- wearing that damned skirt. He had thought she might be trying to be playful with her text so he wouldn’t avoid her after the previous night, but he no longer knew what to think. She waved at him, coy smile on her lips, and went searching for her book. 

 

“I can’t find the book I’m looking for,” she said from the other end of the shop. “Would you mind helping me?”

 

Frowning, Kakashi went to her. The book was on the shelf above her, not quite within easy reach, but not out of it either. He nodded to it.

 

“Thanks.”

 

She stood on the tips of her toes to reach it. Standing behind her as he was, the way she pushed her hips out and stretched so her skirt would ride up dangerously were all painfully obvious to him. Had he been a inch or two closer, she would have been pressed against his crotch.

 

“Sakura, what are you doing?”

 

“Huh?” Sakura looked at him over her shoulder, frowning. “What did you call me?”

 

“What?”

 

Sakura chuckled. “Did you hit your head or something? You know that’s not my name.”

 

“If that’s not your name, then what is it?” He sighed. “I’m not up for games today.”

 

“What are you going on about?” Sakura turned to him, arms crossed over chest. “You call me the wrong name and  _ I’m _ playing games?”

 

Kakashi’s heart sank in his chest. No. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. “Umeko?”


	8. Chapter 8

Sakura was gone. It really was Umeko. Once he had said her name, she’d smiled and asked him for the book she wanted again. He took it from the shelf for her and she pressed her body to his, rubbing against his crotch. He was hard -- he always was when she wore that skirt -- and he did nothing to stop her. Book in hand, she spun around and thanked him. He could see it in Umeko’s eyes, she was waiting for him to touch her, to do what he wanted with her. The same way Sakura had looked at him when she’d been under him and gasping the previous night. But she wasn’t Sakura.

 

He walked back to his desk and sat. Umeko followed him and sat on the corner of the desk as Sakura liked to do. 

 

“Did you have a good week?” he asked, nose in his own book.

 

Umeko shrugged. “It was okay.”

 

She didn’t remember their fight -- or any of the past several months, if he guessed right. Umeko read her book, crossing and uncrossing her legs every now and then to catch his attention. She didn’t smile. Sakura smiled in almost all his memories of her, save for last night and the few times they’d spoken honestly. Then she had worn the same expression Umeko currently did; neutral, but he could see the pain behind it. 

 

“Do you have plans with your friends tonight?”

 

Umeko hummed. “Yeah. Dinner and wherever they want to go after.”

 

“What do you do there, wherever your friends want to go?”

 

With a shrug, Umeko answered, “You’re awfully weird today. Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Kakashi said, forcing his trademark smile. “It’s old age. I forget things and get curious about all the boring details.”

 

Umeko smiled and almost laughed. She ran her knuckles over her lips to contain it. “You’re not that old.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Behind her fingers, she smiled wider. “Yeah.”

 

Kakashi hummed and returned to his book. Umeko scooted on the desk and sat directly across from him, thighs parted just enough to distract him. She continued reading, occasionally brushing her foot against his shin. When a customer came in, she retreated to the corner of the desk and stayed there after the customer left. 

 

It was Umeko. There was no doubt about it. Sakura was gone. Kakashi stared at his book, breathing through his nose. He was alone here now.

 

“You’re patient today,” Umeko said, standing. “That’s unusual.”

 

“Am I?”

 

She sat in his lap and slid her hands on the sides of his neck and into his hair. “You’re never very patient when I wear this.”

 

Kakashi remained silent and kept his hands at his sides. She looked like Sakura, but it wasn’t her. Not really. 

 

“I’d ask if you aren’t feeling well today, but…” Umeko rolled her hips into his, pressing along the length of his erection, and chuckled when he muffled a moan. “It doesn’t seem to be the case.”

 

It wasn’t Sakura. Kakashi slid his hands up her thighs and under her skirt. He had been right -- she wore nothing under it. He kissed her and she followed his lead, eager. She rocked her hips against his and bit back a moan of her own. 

 

“What are you waiting for?” she rasped into his neck, breathless. “I want you right now.”

 

“Here?” 

 

She nodded, then laughed when he hesitated. “What is it? You’ve never been shy about it before -- you love it.”

 

Kakashi chuckled into her hair. She was right. He didn’t really care even if someone did walk in. They’d just walk right back out. He pulled his erection from his pants and thrust into her. She wanted him and he wanted her -- he could afford this one pleasure.

 

She raised and lowered her hips and Kakashi gripped her them, swallowing any sound before it came out of his throat. Her rhythm was far too slow to satisfy him, so he laid her on the desk and pounded into her. When he rubbed circles on her clit, she was no longer silent and gripped the sleeves of his sweater. He leaned closer to her, kissed her, and watched as she grew closer and closer to orgasm. Sakura stared back in his eyes, moaning brokenly into his mouth. 

 

“I need you.”

 

Kakashi smirked against her mouth and groaned when she finally came, taking him with her. 

 

After a quick trip upstairs to clean up, Umeko had come back to sit on the corner of his desk. They read together for the rest of the day. Sometimes, he said something that made her smile and she would hide behind her knuckles again. He told the story of the time Pakkun had chased his tail until he ran into a tree -- Sakura had always loved the story and always laughed when he repeated it -- and she still hid, silent. At the end of the day, she didn’t mind being late to meet her friends when he slid his hand under her skirt again and she came for him again. She left soon after, holding his hand until they were too far apart and they let go.

 

...

 

Once Umeko had left, Kakashi headed straight for the dojo. There was still one person in this world who could listen to him and perhaps not hate him for every word that came out his mouth. Inside the school, he found Minato teaching a class, and hid. For a time, he waited, listening to the grunts and pants of the students. The sounds of exerting a body to its limit -- he could hardly remember what it felt like. In another life, it had been his everyday yet it felt like just that -- another lifetime. Kakashi left before the end of the class.

 

He sat with Yamato on his balcony, glass of vodka in his hand. 

 

“What happened with the girl you met? The one you’d been spending a lot of time with?”

 

Kakashi stared into his glass. Explaining was quite impossible. “She left.”

 

“She left?” Yamato said. “What do you mean?”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “Vanished. I can’t reach her anymore.”

 

“That’s… odd. I hope she’s safe.”

 

Yamato had always been one of those people who put others ahead of himself. The withered plants in his apartment -- and Kakashi could recognize the corpse of the one Yamato had brought to his apartment -- told the story better than any words ever could. 

 

“I hope she is.” 

 

It was easy to assume Sakura had simply gone back to her life, but how could he know? Would she wake up in her body months later as if nothing happened, as Umeko had? He hoped she would. There was nothing worth remembering from this trip to another life.

 

Kakashi downed the rest of his glass and refilled it from the bottle that waited on the ground at his side. “You let all your plants die.”

 

Yamato half-smiled, tugging at the label of his beer. “I was preoccupied and ended up forgetting about them.”

 

“Preoccupied -- about me.”

 

Yamato tore off a part of the label and crumpled it in his hand.

 

“You don’t need to be.”

 

Eyes wide, Yamato looked at him. “Did you decide to quit again?”

 

Kakashi shook his head. Yamato’s shoulders dropped. “You can stop worrying about me. I’m not worth it.”

 

“You’re my brother.”

 

“I’m still a burden to you. I’m dragging you down.”

 

“I don’t care,” Yamato said, turning his chair to face Kakashi. “I’ll do anything -- anything to keep you with us -- “

 

“You can’t do anything.”

 

Yamato stared in silence, lips parted.

 

“No one can,” Kakashi added. He drank the rest of his glass and refilled it again. “So you best forget about trying to help me and live your own life. You’ll be better off.”

 

Yamato tried to take the bottle but Kakashi was quicker. “I don’t care. I’m not going to leave you by yourself.”

 

“What if that’s what I want?”

 

“I still don’t care.”

 

Yamato took the bottle from him and drank straight from the mouth of it. 

 

“Yamato,” Kakashi said. “What are you doing?”

 

Yamato shrugged. “If you can drink like that, so can I.” 

 

Kakashi wanted to argue, but he kept his mouth shut. Yamato wouldn’t listen and there was nothing he could do about it -- just as Yamato could no nothing for him. For the rest of the evening, they drank from the bottle, staring over the rooftops until the bottle was empty and they opened a second one. It wasn’t vodka, but neither of them cared. Their taste buds had given up long ago. Late in the night, Yamato threw up into the sink and stopped matching Kakashi drink for drink. Years of alcohol abuse had their advantages. If he felt sick, it was rather because he hadn’t drunk enough. 

 

Kakashi drank more than he ever had. When he woke up, it was only to stumble in Yamato’s bathroom to puke his guts out. He didn’t remember falling asleep in Yamato’s bed, but that was where he had slept and where he returned when his stomach was purged. Yamato was on the other side of it, feigning sleep. 

 

…

 

Umeko visited him often during the week, as Sakura had. Being with her was simpler. They watched movies -- which he found good enough -- and slept together more often than not. With or without the skirt, he was hard for her. After, Umeko would ask for the pills from his box. They would fall asleep together and dream away everything that ate them alive for the night until morning came and it all returned. Sometimes she smiled, and he said whatever idiotic thing crossed his mind to keep that smile. He had made her cry enough.

 

Today, Tsunade walked into his store and Kakashi shut his eyes. Another month. If he didn’t know the date he’d come here so well, he wouldn’t be able to count how many of them had passed. 

 

Tsunade stopped at his desk, box on her hip, and stared at him. She slammed her palm down on his desk. “You’re back on that shit.”

 

Kakashi said nothing. 

 

“At least you have the decency not to lie to me,” she scoffed.

 

“It would be useless.”

 

“It would be.” Tsunade nodded. “Why the hell would you go back to that? You were done. You hadn’t touched them in months. The worst was over.”

 

Kakashi shrugged, then gasped when Tsunade slapped him over the head. He pressed his palm where she had hit, trying to silence the buzzing in his ears.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you, boy?”

 

Kakashi stared at the floor, frowning. 

 

“Answer me!”

 

“What do you want me to say?” Kakashi said. “You know why I do -- you know what it is.”

 

“Oh, I know why you take them. What I don’t know is why you can’t pull your head out of your ass already and put that shit behind you. For more than a decade I’ve watched you fall lower and lower and I’ve done what I thought I had to just to keep you alive,” she said, brushing away wild strands of hair. “I’ve watched you hurt every single person who cared about you and I’ve had it. You’re a little piece of shit -- that’s what you need to hear.”

 

“I know I am.”

 

Tsunade laughed. “Oh no, you don’t. Not the way you think you are. You’re a piece of shit for doing this to all the people who love you. It’s one thing for your life to take a nosedive for a while -- everyone struggles. You’re a piece of shit because you won’t even try.”

 

“They’re better off without me.”

 

“Hell, they certainly would be,” Tsunade huffed. “But you’re in their life. And now they can’t just let go -- and I know because I’m a piece of shit too. I’m selfish just like you are, but you know what I don’t do anymore? Be a burden on those who love me.”

 

Kakashi’s argument died in his throat. 

 

“I’ve seen shit no one should see during the war. I watched my Nawaki  _ die _ . I  _ know _ what you’ve been through and it’s no excuse. You know what pulled me out of it?”

 

Kakashi shook his head.

 

“My husband broke down one night, cried into my lap about how he couldn’t bear to watch me go through this -- he didn’t want to see me  _ die _ . And that’s the path you’re going down, Kakashi -- you’re killing yourself and killing those who love you. And I know exactly how much you wish they didn’t, but they love you and you can’t do anything about it. They love you the same way you loved those you lost and they’ll feel the same way when you finally fuck yourself up bad enough.”

 

Kakashi gripped the material of his sweatpants, fingers trembling. 

 

“You can be a piece of shit all you want,” Tsunade said, “and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop you. The least you can do is not be a burden on them. You don’t have to be happy -- you just have to hold it together. I’m still a piece of shit and I’ve come to terms with that.”

 

With a last scoff, Tsunade left. Kakashi sat in his chair, unable to move or breathe.

 

…

 

Kakashi sat on his bed, box in his lap. For a long time, he simply stared at it. It was the box that contained Sasuke’s mementos. He opened it and looked at the pictures one by one, spending too long on each one. An adult Sasuke smiling had seemed impossible just a few months back, but it was there, right in front of his eyes. Even without his brother and parents, Sasuke smiled, until his death. And he had died because he was Sasuke -- forever hungering for power before his time. Like Kakashi had put Chidori in his hand, Kobayashi had given Sasuke the tools he would use to go down the wrong road. He’d never meant any harm -- only the opposite. He wanted to help.

 

Sighing, Kakashi put the box back where it belonged in the darkness under the bed. On his laptop, he researched the events that had killed him. Kakashi chuckled. If he had looked up his own name on the internet the first day he got here, he’d have found out right away. On November eleventh, two years back, Sasuke and Kakashi had been found, bleeding to death in an alley a few towns over. No suspects had been found. Sasuke had died there. Unconscious, Kakashi had been rushed to the hospital where he only woke from a coma three weeks later. Amano Sasuke left behind a loving foster father and his fiancée Haruno Umeko at the young age of twenty-four. There was a picture of her from her school book, blonde hair and scar on her shoulder visible.

 

Kakashi took a sip from his water bottle. If Sasuke could smile here, did it mean the Sasuke he knew still had it somewhere inside of him to smile again? Sakura did her best every day to make him smile, yet he never did. He chose to leave behind the two people in the world who could possibly make him smile in exchange for exile. 

 

His phone rang. It was a text from Umeko. 

 

_ What do you want to eat tonight? _

 

_ Whatever you like. _

 

Umeko liked the same foods Sakura did. She would likely bring home some greasy food he’d usually turn his nose up at, but he didn’t mind. The rest of the week, she brought foods he liked without asking. 

 

He shut his computer and made sure the box was well hidden before she arrived. They sat together on his bed and ate dinner in silence. He had been right about the greasy food. Pumpkin sat by Umeko, purring and eyeing the food.

 

“She likes you,” Kakashi chuckled.

 

Umeko patted Pumpkin on the head, protecting her food. “I guess she does.”

 

“She’s always on your lap. She likes my shirts better than she does me.”

 

Umeko hummed and took another mouthful of food.

 

After dinner, they settled for watching another movie. They sat with their backs to the wall, shoulder to shoulder. When he massaged one of her thighs, she slipped under his arm and leaned her head on his chest. He couldn’t pay any attention to the movie tonight. All he could of think of was his old life -- whenever he was with Umeko, he craved the smiles Sakura would constantly give him, the easy conversations he could always have with her; she’d always ramble on about something if he didn’t say much, whether it was medical ninjutsu or suggestions to perfect one of his techniques, or even just to ask how the dogs were doing. He missed the occasional ramen lunches with Naruto and the life he always carried around with him and bubbled over with. Or even his weekly visit to Gai. Even in a wheelchair, Gai never lost his taste for life.

 

“You look sad.”

 

He looked down at Umeko. “Do I?”

 

It was odd, not having his mask to separate him from the rest of the world.

 

Umeko nodded. “You do. Is something wrong?”

 

He shook his head and squeezed her thigh. Umeko still watched him. The look in her eyes turned his stomach inside out -- Sakura had never looked at him that way, of course, but she never looked at Sasuke any other way. Umeko was in love with him and he had no doubts about it. She hugged him, pressing her cheek to his breast. 

 

“You can talk to me, you know.”

 

He couldn’t. Even if he found the words to speak, he couldn’t tell her the true story. He ran one hand through her hair and played with it. She closed her eyes and her breathing slowed. She didn’t know who he was, Sakura had said. Only he knew how they had come to meet. She was soft in his arms. Trusting. She enjoyed his touch and his presence. But that, too, was all a lie. Because she didn’t know the truth. 

 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Kakashi took her in his arms. He held her tight. When he kissed her, she returned his affection, eager and warm. She looked at him that same way again, loving and understanding and kind, and his heart hammered in his chest. He could take it all and never let go and he wanted it so deeply it tore at his insides, but it was all a fantasy. She didn’t really love him. She couldn’t. It was all a trick he’d played on her.

 

“Umeko,” he whispered against her lips. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

 

Umeko kissed him again, fingers tickling the nape of his neck just the right way to send tingles down his spine. “What is it?”

 

He kissed her again and lingered on her lips. It would be the last taste of her he would ever be allowed and he couldn’t let go yet. He cupped her cheeks, felt her hair, kissed her again. 

 

“I was Sasuke’s father.”

 

Umeko froze in his arms. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Umeko froze in his arms. She stared between them at her lap, fidgeting with her fingers. Kakashi watched her in silence and waited for the blow -- he more than deserved it. He had never lied to her directly, but he might as well have. She’d been tricked into loving and sleeping with him when under normal conditions she would have never looked twice his way. His own actions made him sick and being the target of them could only amplify that feeling, he imagined.

 

“I’d kind of guessed,” Umeko finally whispered. “I could never know for sure since he never told me your full name, but it wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

 

Breath caught in his chest, Kakashi looked down in her eyes. She looked back up at him, sucking on her bottom lip and guilty. “You knew?”

 

She nodded. “I knew his name was Kakashi and he owned a bookstore. How many could there be?”

 

Kakashi exhaled the breath he’d been holding. 

 

“It was easier to pretend I didn’t know.”

 

“Easier?” 

 

Umeko sat against the wall and hugged her knees to her chest. She nodded. “I could pretend it was alright, then.”

 

Kakashi tried to pull his mask up higher, but his fingers only met his cheek. 

 

“When you came to me the first time, I didn’t know. I thought you were a weirdo. And then I read your card, your name, and... “ She chewed on her thumb, staring ahead at the wall. “I decided to go and see you.”

 

“Why?”

 

Knowing all of it, she should have stayed away from him. 

 

Umeko shrugged. “You were nice. Even if just for a second, you made me smile.”

 

Umeko took his hand, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand. He squeezed it.

 

“I guess being with you helped me hang on to Sasuke. To the life I had with him. For a while, at least.”

 

“Were you happy with him?”

 

Umeko squeezed his hand. “We would have had a great life together. I was going to be a surgeon and I’m sure he would have done well with martial arts, thanks to you. He was so obsessed with it.”

 

Kakashi chuckled. “Was he.”

 

“He told me how he met you, you know,” she said. Kakashi turned to her. “He was going to kill someone. He had the knife and you found him stalking that guy who always beat him up. But you found him and you took the knife from him. When his life was about to tip in the wrong direction, you tipped it right back in the opposite direction. And because of you he lived a better life. When I finally had the chance to meet the person who did that for him, I had to. So I came to your store.”

 

“You shouldn’t have.”

 

Umeko scooted closer to him and took his hand in her lap. “You made it bearable.”

 

“I made everything worse.”

 

Shaking her head, Umeko squeezed his hand. “No.”

 

“How?”

 

“You were there for me. You showed me there was still a life for me after all this. Even if we took some bad turns. You were there and you knew exactly how I felt. And you made me smile when I thought I never could again.”

 

Kakashi stared at their joined hands. Umeko did smile at times, but she always hid behind her hands. She didn’t want to smile -- not for him.

 

“Kakashi…” 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Would you… would you tell me how he really died? Why? You’re the only one who knows the truth.”

 

Did he know? All the information he had came from indirect sources. He had never really been there. 

 

He told her the story he could bear to tell; Sasuke had wanted money to give her the wedding he thought she wanted -- not that she wanted, because Kakashi didn’t know what she wanted -- so he had sought help from him. He had found a way and he had thought it was rather safe, until it wasn’t and they were both shot. Sasuke had died trying to give her the best he could offer. To his last breath, she had been on his mind.

 

Whether or not it was the entire truth, Kakashi would never know -- but it was the truth he would have her believe.

 

Umeko rubbed at the corners of her eyes, swallowing tears as she leaned against him. “It’s a romantic story.”

 

Kakashi nodded.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“There’s something else.”

 

Umeko waited for him to continue, silent. He stood to retrieve the box and pulled out the two bags of pills they used. He dropped the ones he had bought for her in her lap. 

 

“I’ve been swapping your pills with these. You know what they are, don’t you?”

 

Umeko took a long look at them and nodded. Whenever she would ask for the pills, Kakashi would get them and hide them in his hand until he slipped them past her lips. She would swallow them without doubt. He would go back and forth between the real pills and the medicine.

 

“That’s why I’ve felt different, then. I thought the dose wasn’t enough anymore.”

 

Kakashi nodded. “I thought it would be better if you didn’t know.”

 

The truth was Sakura had done the brunt of the work. He’d only kept up the charade.

 

“What about you?”

 

“I still take them.”

 

“That’s not fair,” Umeko said. “Why haven’t you stopped too?”

 

When he didn’t answer, Umeko tugged on his hands and led him back into bed with her. On top of her, he looked down at her eyes. They were Sakura’s eyes -- because she was Sakura, after all, in her own way. Different lives, but the same person. 

 

“I’m glad I met you,” Umeko whispered, closing the distance between them so their lips brushed together. “I’m glad you’re in my life.”

 

He took her in his arms and kissed her, sighing against her lips. The voice was still in the back of his mind, demanding he do all these things, but it was no longer so outlandish. It was his own, in the end.

 

“You won’t say it back?” Umeko smirked, arms around his neck. “Really?”

 

Kakashi chuckled. There it was -- the fire he knew so well in Sakura. “Should I?”

 

Umeko pouted and playfully smacked his back. “You should.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

He kissed her and ran one of his hand under one of her thighs to pull her closer to him. Umeko gasped and fought his hold, but he pinned her to the bed with little effortless. She glared up at him, lips pursed. He smiled and gave them a quick kiss.

 

“Next time, maybe.”

 

“You’re disgusting.”

 

“So I am.” Kakashi nodded to the computer. “We missed the ending. And a good part of the movie””

 

Umeko gasped and complained about how she’d been looking forward to this movie for a long time, so Kakashi replayed it. They lied in bed together, holding each other’s hand until they fell asleep.

 

…

 

Sitting in the park, book in hand, Kakashi took a moment to take in the sight. Now that it was summer, the leaves were thicker and a deeper green. It had taken a while, but the park looked more and more like the Konoha he knew. Lavish grass and trees farther than the eye could see. Rather than sitting near the water, he had climbed in a tree today. A few passersby stared at him, but he didn’t mind it. It was like walking with Icha Icha in hand again. Normal.

 

The book trembled with his hand and it was annoying to read, but it was a small price to pay for the clarity he finally enjoyed again. He hadn’t had alcohol -- or anything else -- in a while. The first few days, he had been in pain and feeling sick, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. What had happened came after nearly a week; he might as well been burning alive and he could hardly tell where he was anymore. Umeko said he had had a seizure, which he didn’t recall, and that he talked about dead people a lot. At one point, she begged him to drink a certain amount, but he refused. He had felt like he might die the day he came into this world, and he felt that way again. Umeko said he might. If it killed him, then it killed him.

 

But it didn’t. He was alive and clear-minded today. At peace -- or as much as he could be.

 

His phone rang and it was Obito again. He shut it off. Obito never left any messages. 

 

Kakashi jumped down the tree and returned home. It was Friday and Yamato would be there soon -- he was actually there first. Kakashi laughed and said he’d gotten lost on the path of life and Yamato shook his head. Inside, they sat and ate together in the silence that had become habit for them. Today, Yamato was in a better mood. Umeko had cleaned up most of the mess while he was dying on the bed. It had been nice to wake up to something else than trash.

 

“We should spar,” Kakashi said.

 

Yamato stared at him, forkful of pasta halfway to his mouth. “What?”

 

“You heard me. We should spar together. Now.”

 

“We’re eating.”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “When we’re done.”

 

Yamato watched bewildered as Kakashi wolfed down the rest of his dinner. Without alcohol, his appetite had returned to him. Solids were a welcome change for his stomach. 

 

Outside, they settled into their battle stance. Kakashi remained on the defensive and Yamato attacked first. Kakashi felt rustier than ever. He hadn’t been training with Minato for a while now and it showed. A well-aimed kick still sent Yamato to the ground. Kakashi took far more hits than he even tried to deal and each consecutive hit was stronger than the previous. Frowning, Kakashi watched Yamato. They had started out friendly enough, careful with the power they used, but now Yamato was coming at him the way he had when they had been children. Not quite with the intent to kill, because Yamato could never bring himself to, but there was rage in his eyes. Kakashi let him hit him until he fell flat on his back and could barely roll on his stomach to choke out blood.

 

Yamato stopped, panting.

 

Throat free of blood, Kakashi lied down on his back. “We should do this more often.”

 

Yamato laughed -- and laughed more and more and just when Kakashi wanted to tell him to stop, Yamato sat at his side and helped him sit up.

 

“This is the first time I’ve ever won,” Yamato said.

 

“And what a victory it is.”

 

If only to emphasize his point, Kakashi spat out more blood and it dribbled down his chin. Yamato grinned, sheepish. 

 

“I got carried away, didn’t I? I’m sorry.”

 

“It was well-deserved. Don’t apologize.”

 

Yamato helped him up the stairs and back into his apartment. Umeko would worry when she saw him again, but it only made Kakashi chuckle. How many times had Sakura seen him with gaping wounds and hardly batted an eye? 

 

Kakashi leaned on the counter, patting at his bloody mouth with napkins and with Yamato fretting over him, convinced he might have broken a bone or two. He hadn’t -- Kakashi would know. With an alcohol-soaked rag, Yamato dabbed at his split cheek and Kakashi glared at him the best he could with what might be a black eye. Yamato stared back at him, laughed and pulled him into a hug that nearly crushed him. Chuckling, Kakashi patted his back.

 

...

 

Indeed, Umeko had worried when she saw him again. She had asked what kind of trouble he had gotten into and he was honest. She’d questioned how good a friend could be if he beat him to a bloody pulp, but Kakashi had just smiled and reassured her everything was alright. Umeko wasn’t quite convinced, but they spent Saturday afternoon reading in his bookshop in quiet, sweet silence -- by far the best part of his week. 

 

When his body didn’t quite ache so much, she asked him to the go to the park. Being Sunday, the park was rather busy, but they found a peaceful patch of grass for themselves. 

 

“How can you be able to do it just like that?” Umeko said, scrunching up her nose. “You’re disgusting.”

 

Kakashi chuckled. Umeko had decided to show him a few of her gymnastic skills and he managed to copy most of them. He was weak still, but certainly stronger and more agile than a civilian. 

 

“I’ve had a lot of training,” Kakashi said. “It translates rather well to this field.”

 

Umeko huffed. It was time for a lunch break, she decided, but he knew she just didn’t like meeting her match in a field she thought herself talented. Once they were done eating, she played the piano for him, sitting between his legs on the grass. He watched her fingers move on the keyboard and listened, reclined against a tree. Had he had the sharingan, he could have copied it effortlessly, but it wouldn’t be so easy now. After a few songs, she convinced him to let her teach him a song.

 

“See,” she said, watching him play, “it’s not so complicated. You’ve got good dexterity so I knew you’d pick this up easily too.”

 

Kakashi hummed, chin on her shoulder. Umeko’s hands joined his on the keyboard and she played with him. Even with his untrained ears, he could tell the notes they played apart. Hers were smoother, cleaner, more beautiful. Umeko didn’t look angry this time. 

 

Tired of the piano, they lounged under the sun for a time. Kakashi realized he’d fallen asleep only when he woke up to Umeko rolling on her other side in his lap. She looked up at him, mouthing an apology, and he closed his eyes, tightening the hold of his arms around her. He could sleep a little longer. The sun was warm and so was she. Comfortable as it was, he didn’t want to move.

 

Umeko’s voice woke him. She said his name a few times until he was fully aware. Dinner time had come and her stomach was rumbling, so they left to get food and returned to his apartment to eat. Umeko had chosen curry today. He couldn’t remember the last Sunday he’d had curry -- only what had happened. Umeko watched him as she ate, perceptive as ever, but never asked. 

 

He told her stories about the school. They weren’t really about the school, of course, but it was easy to take memories of the academy and merge them together. Umeko listened, always hiding her smile behind her knuckles. Kakashi told the story of Pakkun again, hoping she would laugh, but she didn’t. She never laughed. 

 

“Have I ever told you about the time I walked into a street light?”

 

Umeko shook her head. It had never happened, but he told her of how he’d been so into the book he was reading that he ran nose-first into the pole. He’d broken his nose and been late to his appointment. His friend hadn’t believed him; he was always late, after all.

 

There was a hint of laughter in her face, somewhere behind the knuckles she bit onto. In the back of his mind, he could hear Kobayashi still, urging him to do all he could to keep whatever was left of this spark of hers. He knew now why he’d been drawn to her in the first place -- Kobayashi hadn’t been able to let Umeko lose her smile. So Kakashi made up another handful of stories, until Umeko kicked his shin and called him out on his bullshit. 

 

“You’re not clumsy enough for all of that to happen.”

 

“So you think.”

 

“So I know.”

 

Kakashi hummed. Umeko sat in his lap, hands on his sides. He held her hips, staring up in her eyes. “I have another story for you. It’s different.”

 

“Oh? What is it?”

 

“I lived another life once, did you know that?”

 

Umeko shook her head.

 

“I was a ninja. Very powerful. A living legend, even.” Umeko slapped at his chest and he caught her hands, smiling. “But so were you.”

 

He told her of Sasuke and Naruto -- and she frowned when he mentioned Naruto, insisting he was lying -- and how they had become a team. He told her how she had become strong, so much stronger than he’d ever imagined she would be, and all the obstacles they had surmounted. That during the war, she had saved his life with her medical skills and he’d done all he could to keep her alive as well. He left out Sasuke’s cruel use of genjutsu.

 

“You like happy endings, don’t you?” he asked.

 

Umeko nodded. “But it doesn’t end well, does it?”

 

“It ends well. You marry Sasuke and have a daughter with him. Her name is Sarada and one day she’ll become just like you.”

 

Umeko was still in his lap, eyes lost in thought. She smiled. Pretty and bright just like he remembered.

 

“That’s all something you made up,” she said, hiding behind her hand again. “It’s a nice story.”

 

“It’s not just a story. I’ve lived that life and so have you. You just don’t remember it.”

 

“So what happened to you?”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “Not very different from now. But we don’t see each other much. You’re married there.”

 

“You have a bookshop, too?”

 

Kakashi chuckled. “I don’t. Maybe I should have considered that option.”

 

Umeko kissed him and he forgot about all the other stories he wanted to tell her. Hovering above her as he thrust into her again and again, he watched her moan, and she covered her face with her hands. He pulled them away -- he wanted to see her when she came for him -- but stilled when he saw the tears in her eyes. 

 

He tried to say her name, but stopped short before he said Sakura.

 

“Just continue,” Umeko said, urging him with her thighs.

 

He didn’t move. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” she breathed, pulling him in a long kiss. “Sometimes I cry when I’m close. You know that.”

 

It was a lie, he knew. He resumed his thrusting, pressing his forehead to hers. Umeko held onto him, fingers digging in his back. 

 

Soon after, Umeko said she was going back home. She didn’t want to carry her keyboard to work and she hadn’t brought a change of clothes, so she had no choice. Kakashi let her go. She would come back soon enough with a clearer mind and he would ask again.

 

Once he knew she was far enough, he left his apartment and headed for the dojo. Walking inside, he didn’t know if he would find Minato. It was late and he doubted there would be any classes at this point, but Minato was there, meditating in his classroom.

 

“Kakashi,” he called, eyes still closed. “Come in.”

 

Kakashi sat cross-legged as Minato was and remained silent.

 

Several minutes later, Minato opened his eyes. He stood and Kakashi followed. Minato stared straight into his eyes. Swallowing against his dry throat, Kakashi met his eyes. When he felt he might crumble, Minato smiled. Breathing through his nose, Kakashi hugged his teacher and held on tight. Twenty-five years without him. Twenty-five years without a single day where he hadn’t wished to have him back -- and he was wasting his time now.

 

Minato returned his embrace, then pulled him away. “You’ve missed practice.”

 

Kakashi nodded and stared at the floor. “I’m sorry, Minato-sensei.”

 

“You look different.”

 

Kakashi said nothing.

 

“Will you tell me what happened now?”

 

Kakashi nodded and they sat together. He told the full story as he knew it, from his father’s death, to Sasuke, to Umeko and everything in between. All of it -- except for his old life, because no one could possibly understand.

 

In the end, Minato smiled. “You’ve always been strong, Kakashi. So strong I often regretted showing you how to use it.”

 

Kakashi thought of being thirteen again, of Minato chastising him about his use of Chidori.

 

“But in the end, I always believed you would make the right choices. That you would use that strength for others.”

 

“I’ve tried.”

 

Minato nodded. “You did well. You can do better.”

 

Kakashi looked up at Minato. “How?”

 

“What has made you the happiest in life, Kakashi?”

 

Kakashi was lost for words. He wanted to say being with Obito, Minato and Rin. Being with his team -- but it was false. He longed for the memory of it, but he had never been happy with them. It was all a fantasy. There were times with Team Seven, but they were few and far between. When Sasuke formed his first Chidori and they were both filled with pride -- or sometimes when they stopped fighting between themselves long enough to share a quiet lunch. When Sakura had presented Sarada to him and he’d felt like a part of her family. Like a part of him had allowed this to happen. 

 

When Umeko smiled today.

 

“You can do good, Kakashi,” Minato said, startling Kakashi. “If you choose to.”

 

Kakashi sat in silence. What good had he done in his life?

 

He was trash. But he was trash that had brought Team Seven together, taught them the importance of something he only grasped too late in life. He’d given his life and soul for the Leaf and it had grown with his efforts. He’d upheld his father’s true legacy. 

 

Somehow, he’d become a pillar within his village -- so much he had become Hokage.

 

Kakashi looked up at Minato. “There are people to whom I matter. Truly matter.”

 

Minato nodded. “What will you do with that, then, Kakashi?”

 

Kakashi paused, then stood and bowed. “Thank you, Minato-sensei.”

 

Minato smiled and Kakashi left. He took the long way home -- walked all the way, in fact -- and cleared his mind. He was still alive. Somehow. 

 

At home, Kakashi walked to his desk. Naruto’s manuscript was still there. He thumbed the inked letters of his name. Umeko had smiled today. He had found the right words to make her smile. Manuscript in hand, Kakashi closed his eyes. There were more people he could bring a smile to.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Kakashi pinched the bridge of his nose and put the book down. After many meetings, phone calls and emails back and forth with Naruto, the manuscript hardly resembled its first draft anymore -- in writing, at least. Kakashi had done his best to protect the essence of Naruto’s story. Much to his surprise, Naruto had been receptive to his every suggestion and let Kakashi work as he pleased, even when he decided to change details to fit the narrative he knew. Now, flipping through the pages, Kakashi had no more suggestions. He would go through it another time, but this was the final draft.

 

Umeko wrapped her arms around him, bending down to press her cheek to his temple. “Are you done?”

 

Kakashi nodded. It had taken months, but he was. It was over. 

 

Smiling, Umeko read the first page again. “It sounds so much like the story you told me about, that other life you lived. That’s where you got it from, I bet.”

 

Kakashi chuckled. Indeed, the book was familiar, so familiar he wondered if his old life hadn’t been dreamed up by Naruto. So much of it was laid before his eyes, etched in ink for him to read like a fantasy, from the beginning of his team, to their fissure and reunion. Details were different -- chakra wasn’t chakra -- but the basis was there. 

 

“Or maybe I gave him the idea,” Kakashi said, flicking Umeko’s nose.

 

Umeko grumbled and stood straighter, pressing her growing belly against his back. 

 

“Your ideas suck,” Umeko scoffed. 

 

Kakashi laughed. While she had been happy about his conviction that the baby would be a girl, she hadn’t been so enthused by his choice of the name Sarada. This was how he knew Sasuke had named their daughter and not Sakura.

 

“You like all the stories I tell you.”

 

Umeko hummed. “Yeah, but now I know you stole them.”

 

“I did not.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

Umeko hid behind her hand again. Kakashi stood up and pulled her hand away to kiss her. “Can you watch the shop tomorrow?”

 

“I have a job too, you know,” Umeko said. 

 

“Right. I’ll just take an impromptu vacation then.”

 

Umeko followed him through the apartment as Kakashi stretched the kinks out of his back. He was rather impatient for the new desk chair he’d ordered. Working on books in the shop would be much more comfortable once he received it.

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

“I have people I want to visit,” Kakashi said. “I might be late.”

 

“You’re always late.”

 

Kakashi glanced at the clock. “Almost always.”

 

Umeko huffed, but didn’t protest when he kissed her goodbye. As usual, he was on time to meet with Minato. 

 

Sparring with Minato had become the last thread tying him to his old life. When they fought, Kakashi could taste the same fire that always used to light his veins. Here or there, the taste was the same, almost like blood. He missed it, missed it like he missed chakra and the feel of lightning in his hands. 

 

Kakashi pinned Minato to the ground, twisting one arm behind his back and pressing a hand to his neck. When Minato didn’t fight back, Kakashi let go and Minato got back to his feet.

 

“That was great,” Minato said, shrugging his shoulder. “You did good today.”

 

Kakashi nodded. As the months went by, Kakashi began recognizing his body in the mirror -- and in battle. Thursdays hadn’t been bloody for a time already.

 

Minato stared Kakashi in the eye and Kakashi waited for him to speak. 

 

“You’re on the right path. I can see it,” Minato said. “I’m proud of you, Kakashi.”

 

Kakashi bowed, closing his eyes to hide the shimmer in them. “Thank you, Minato-sensei.”

 

Minato put a hand on his shoulder and Kakashi stood straight. “I’ve waited a long time for this day. Your father would be proud, too.”

 

“I hope he is a proud father,” Kakashi said, then paused. “And a proud grandfather, too.”

 

Minato smirked and cocked his head to the side. “Did I hear that right, Kakashi?”

 

Kakashi nodded. 

 

“I see I wasn’t wrong about anchors,” Minato laughed. “That is good.”

 

Kakashi scratched the back of his head. Naturally, the pregnancy hadn’t been planned -- but what had he ever planned in his life? Whatever he did plan always turned out horribly. He could rely on chance and destiny every now and then. It had served him better than he could.

 

“Kakashi,” Minato said. Kakashi broke out his thoughts to look back up to Minato. “You should meet your mother. She should hear the news from you.”

 

Kakashi nodded. “I will tell her. Soon.”

 

“Good.”

 

“There a few things I need to take care of first,” Kakashi said, “but I will meet with her soon.”

 

Minato pulled Kakashi into his arms and Kakashi returned the embrace, hanging on tight. He was terrified of everything, but he didn’t mind. It was a battle he was ready to face like any other. One step at a time. 

 

…

 

Waiting in the hospital, box in hand, Kakashi sighed. He had never liked hospital. The antiseptic smell had never been kind to his nose. Here, though, it didn’t bother him so much. He hardly smelled it. It had taken him a while, but he had found Tsunade’s secretary, and after much convincing her that he would die within hours if he did not meet with her, was told to wait in the chair he sat in.

 

“You’re definitely not dying.”

 

Kakashi looked up to find Tsunade behind him. “I assure you I am.”

 

Scoffing, Tsunade led him into her office. “You better have a good reason to meet me here. I’m working -- “

 

Kakashi put the box down on Tsunade’s desk and the flaps bumped open. 

 

Tsunade frowned. “Are you crazy? Bringing this here, are you mad?”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “A gift from your favorite patient. I’m sure everyone will believe it. But it’s not like they’ll see any of this.”

 

Tsunade shoved the box under the desk. “What is this?”

 

Kakashi smiled. “I figured you could make a pretty penny out of it. Can’t you?”

 

“That’s not my question, Kakashi.”

 

“You know what this is,” Kakashi said, crossing his arms. “I’m done. It’s over.”

 

Tsunade stood and began inspecting him. Before long, he was near naked on an examination table. He should have fought back, he realized -- neither Tsunade nor Sakura could overpower him after all, but old habits died hard. Tsunade poked and probed at him in the exact way Sakura always had. Like teacher like pupil. 

 

“Everything looks good.”

 

Kakashi put his clothes back on while Tsunade asked him question after question. He mentioned the symptoms he’d had during alcohol withdrawal and she hit him over the head again. He probably deserved it.

 

“Your poor mother’s heart couldn’t take losing her boy,” Tsunade chastised. “You’ve always been a brat. You never learn.”

 

“I’m trying.”

 

Tsunade paused. “You are.”

 

After a long sigh, Tsunade hugged him where he sat. Her massive breasts pressed against the side of his head and his shoulder. Thoroughly uncomfortable, Kakashi patted her shoulder until she finally let go. 

 

Laughing, Tsunade sat in her chair. “You’ve always hated my hugs.”

 

“I wonder why.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

Kakashi cleared his throat. “Can I have that plant?”

 

Tsunade turned to look at the large potted plant Kakashi pointed at. “That thing? Why?”

 

“Payment for my gift.”

 

“It’s not a gift if I have to pay for it,” Tsunade chuckled.

 

“Call it an exchange of gifts, then.”

 

Tsunade shrugged and agreed, so Kakashi left with the plant. He carried it in the subway, hidden behind its leaves until he arrived at Yamato’s apartment. Kakashi wished he could see Yamato’s face when he opened the door, but alas he couldn’t. 

 

“Kakashi,” Yamato said, “what are you doing?”

 

Kakashi handed him the plant. “It’s for you. The other died so I thought you could use a replacement.”

 

Yamato took the plant, shifting awkwardly as he tried to balance it in his hands. “Um. Thank you. I think.”

 

“You’re very welcome.”

 

“Do you want to come inside?”

 

“Actually, no,” Kakashi said. “You’re coming outside with me.”

 

“What?”

 

“Just follow me.”

 

Kakashi shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away. Yamato put the plant down and locked his door in a hurry. 

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“You’ll see.”

 

“You’re really not telling me?” 

 

Kakashi chuckled. “Can’t I surprise my little brother every now and then?”

 

Yamato smiled, scratching the back of his head. “Sure, but I don’t remember the last time you have.”

 

“There’s a first time for everything, don’t you think?”

 

“I suppose.”

 

“Don’t be so gloomy,” Kakashi teased, squeezing Yamato’s shoulder. “You’ll love it, you’ll see.”

 

Yamato, of course, did not love it when Kakashi sat him down at the bar and presented him to the bartender who had offered him peanuts and alcohol on one dark night. 

 

“Kobayashi,” Emi laughed. “You’ve brought company.”

 

“This is Yamato. He needs help finding company.”

 

“What?” Yamato sputtered, turning back to Kakashi. “This is not -- “

 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Emi said, leaning over the counter to expose her generous cleavage. “You’re not my first.”

 

Yamato stared at her, frozen with his mouth half open. Kakashi sat, laughing, and clapped Yamato on the back. 

 

“The usual?” Emi asked.

 

Kakashi nodded.

 

Emi poured sparkling water for Kakashi and a beer for Yamato. “So what’s your name, handsome?”

 

Yamato shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Yamato.”

 

“You didn’t tell me you had such pretty friends.” Emi tried to flick Kakashi’s nose, but he batted her hand away. “You should have.”

 

“I thought you liked surprises,” Kakashi chuckled.

 

Emi hummed. “I do. That’s true.”

 

Yamato sipped his beer, avoiding them both. Kakashi smirked behind his glass. Flirty and feisty as Emi was, Yamato would be no match. Not when he teamed up with her to torment his little kohai.

 

Kakashi leaned in to whisper in Emi’s ear. “He’s a bit shy that one. Have fun.”

 

“I will, I will,” Emi laughed. 

 

Yamato stared at them, already suspecting what kind of evening he’d be subjected to.

 

But by the end of said evening, Yamato was laughing. He was a bit tipsy and every drink loosened his tongue further. It hadn’t been long before Kakashi leaned back in his chair and melted in the background. Emi was all ears for Yamato’s stories -- as she always was, as it was her job -- and Yamato doled them out freely. Emi had never been this quiet with him. Of course, he never spoke freely like Yamato did, and always fled from her frisky hands. Yamato seemed to enjoy those hands, though.

 

“Look at you,” Emi huffed, turning to Kakashi. “All quiet and silent while we’re having fun here. What’s up with that?”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “I came for the peanuts and the entertainment.”

 

“You’ll run this place out of business with all the peanuts you eat,” Emi scoffed. She leaned on the counter, exposing her cleavage for him. “You’d think there would be other things to catch your attention.”

 

Kakashi patted her on the head. “Oh, there are. Don’t worry about that.”

 

Yamato cleared his throat.

 

“What is it, honey?” Emi asked, turning to Yamato. “Dry throat? Need another drink?”

 

Kakashi laughed. “Aren’t you sweet, hm, Emi?”

 

“Of course I am.” Emi pursed her lips, still looking at Yamato. “But he isn’t. Don’t you think, sweetheart?”

 

Yamato chuckled. “He’s special.”

 

“That he is,” Emi laughed.

 

Kakashi put his glass down on the counter and decided it was time to leave. Yamato protested, but together with Emi, convincing him to stay wasn’t so hard. On his way out, he mouthed a thank you to Emi.

 

She flashed him a big smile and waved him goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”

 

...

 

Sakura hadn’t been lying when she’d said his business had been successful. Following a secretary through the halls of the company he’d once co-owned, Kakashi chuckled to himself. It was no surprise he hadn’t been a good fit here -- all the men wore suits and the women fancy dresses. He was still wearing sweatpants and he liked them very much, thank you. The secretary stopped in front of a door and motioned for him to go inside.

 

“Hey, you came,” Obito said.

 

Kakashi lifted his hand in greeting. “I did.”

 

Kakashi sat across from his Obito. Papers were scattered all over his large desk and a few sported coffee stains. Kakashi smiled. 

 

“So you’re done with it?” 

 

Kakashi nodded. “I am.”

 

Kakashi handed the manuscript back to Obito. He had only met with him a few times since they’d last had dinner together with Rin, but Obito smiled all the same, as if nothing had happened, ever cheerful. 

 

Obito began reading, reclining in his chair. “Do you think it’s good enough?”

 

“I do.”

 

While Obito read, Kakashi let his eyes wander through the office. The entire wall facing Obito’s back was made of a window and gave view on the city center below them. With no buildings neighboring it, it was rather private. Thumbing the edge of Obito’s desk, Kakashi smiled. It was much nicer than the one he used in the bookshop. Of course, the entire building was nicer than his bookshop. It was odd to think this all could have been his -- that he could have worked here instead of the bookshop. 

 

Kakashi reclined in his cushy chair, crossing one leg over his knee. He already missed the musty smell of his shop. It smelled of the past and old memories, everything he ever cherished. 

 

“Your style has changed a bit,” Obito said.

 

“Has it?”

 

Obito nodded. “But it’s good.”

 

While Obito read more, Kakashi messed around on his phone. It was no Icha Icha, but it filled the time just as well. There were plenty of smutty books to read on the internet, he’d found out. And for free, too. Heaven for a cheapskate such as himself. When the clock finally showed ten, Kakashi smirked and sent a text to Yamato.

 

_ Had fun? _

 

Yamato replied almost immediately.  _ I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungover.  _

 

_ Emi’s always been a good saleswoman. Did she find you some company like I asked? _

 

This time, Yamato took a while to answer.  _ She did. We have a date on Sunday, apparently. Emi marked it on my calendar. With a bunch of hearts. _

 

Kakashi smiled. Good. He knew he could count on her. 

 

_ Good luck. _

 

“Reading something funny?”

 

Kakashi looked up at Obito. “It’s nothing.”

 

Obito chuckled, smiling, eyes still down in the manuscript. “Are you causing trouble for your brother again?”

 

“I would never do such a thing.”

 

Obito snorted. “Right, right. You’re an angel.”

 

“I am. Thank you.”

 

Obito put the manuscript down. “I think it looks promising. We’ll publish it.”

 

Kakashi lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t even read half of it.”

 

“I trust you.” Obito shrugged. “If you say it’s good, I’m sure it is. You always had a sixth sense for these things.”

 

“Naruto will be glad to hear it, then.”

 

Obito toyed with a pen, staring down at it. “So… Does this mean you want to work here again?”

 

Kakashi stared out of the window for a moment. “Maybe. I could take a project back to my shop every now and then.”

 

Chuckling, Obito looked back up at Kakashi. “You don’t want an office here? It’d be done easy.”

 

Kakashi shrugged. “Hm. I like my shop.”

 

“Alright, then,” Obito said. “I’ve already got another one for you.”

 

Kakashi chuckled. “How did you know I’d want it?”

 

“Because you love this job, you always did.” Obito smiled wide, mischievous. “I knew you couldn’t let it go once you started again.”

 

Kakashi hummed. Obito retrieved a piece of paper from his desk and handed it to him. A check -- and a check for a surprisingly large amount.

 

“What is this?”

 

“It’s what I owe you for the work on the book.”

 

Kakashi nodded. For the six months he’d worked, he certainly couldn’t complain. Money couldn’t hurt right now. Umeko had been looking for a bigger apartment since she found out about the pregnancy, but little fit in her price range -- much less Kakashi’s. The shop didn’t bring in much without his box. Maybe he could buy a house.

 

“Is it enough? I put you in the highest pay grade -- “

 

“It’s enough,” Kakashi said.

 

Obito paused. “I talked to Rin when I heard you were done with the book. She wants to celebrate.”

 

“Celebrate the book?”

 

“Yes,” Obito said, “amongst other things. Will you be free this Sunday? Mari will be there too.”

 

Kakashi nodded. “I’ll be there.”

 

“Good, good.” Obito smiled, already impatient. He looked down at his hands. “Kakashi… I’m so glad to have you back.”

 

“So am I.”

 

For a while longer, Kakashi sat together with Obito. They talked of Mari, Rin, books, anything that crossed their mind. Kakashi never mentioned Umeko or the pregnancy. Only Minato knew. Every day, he promised to tell Yamato, at least, but he never did. If he continued at this rate, it wouldn’t be done before the birth. 

 

Before Kakashi left, he stood in the entrance hall for a moment longer. If only for a second, he saw the Hokage tower around him. That, too, he had left behind without much regret in favor of his tiny, comfortable apartment.

 

…

 

That night, Kakashi lied in bed with Umeko to his side, reading to her what he hadn’t already of Naruto’s book. She looked up at him, smile on her face, breathing quietly. Her round belly pressed into his side in ways it hadn’t before, but he didn’t mind it. Discomfort only came when he remembered Sakura and the pregnancy he’d barely seen her go through. It was hard enough on Umeko; he couldn’t begin to imagine how Sakura had handled being on the road with Sasuke right up to labor. Umeko would never receive such disregard for her well-being and that of her child from him. Never. Earlier, he’d given her the check he’d received from Obito. Her eyes had nearly bulged out at the sight of the amount and she congratulated him, handing him back to check, but he didn’t take it. He’d told her to keep it and, no matter how much she insisted she couldn’t, told her to use it for her and the baby. She had fallen silent then, but smiled. It was enough for him.

 

“It was such a nice story,” Umeko breathed against his shoulder. “I really liked it.”

 

Kakashi nodded. “It was a good story.”

 

For a time, they stared into each other’s eyes. In them, Kakashi saw all he had seen in Sakura’s eyes for Sasuke but had faded from them with time. The love in Umeko’s eyes right then might die one day, too, but Kakashi wouldn’t let it happen without a fight. She deserved better. He wanted better.

 

Umeko hid her smile behind her knuckles. 

 

Kakashi chuckled. “Why did you always hide like that?”

 

Umeko shrugged, averting her eyes.

 

“Tell me,” Kakashi whispered into her ear, tightening his arm around her shoulders. “I want to know.”

 

“I just…” She sighed. “I just wish things were different.”

 

“How?”

 

She turned her face into the mattress. “You know how.”

 

Kakashi hummed. Of course. It went unsaid between them, how they were only in each other’s arms because of Sasuke’s death and their personal bond to him, but they could never forget. It would always be there. 

 

“You’re happy,” Kakashi said. “It’s how it should be.”

 

Umeko chuckled. “Right. I bet you’d just say ‘Oh, that’s true. Everything is alright then,’ if I told you that.”

 

Kakashi kissed her temple. “It’s so not so bad to trust the good things other people say sometimes.”

 

He’d learned that lesson the hard way.

 

Umeko sighed, pulling away. Tears welled up in her eyes. She sat up, wiping them away. Kakashi sat up with her, hand on her thigh.

 

“Are you happy?” he asked.

 

Umeko pressed her palms to her eyes. “Don’t ask me that.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I can’t answer.”

 

Kakashi pulled her closer to him and she began trembling. “Tell me.”

 

“No.”

 

“Then tell me why you can’t.”

 

Umeko choked out a sob against his shoulder. “Because I said it, I wish things were different. I wish I could say what I think and feel without guilt just… eating me up.”

 

“Stop it,” Kakashi said, tilting her head so he could look at her. “Just stop. It’s useless -- trust me. So just tell me.”

 

Umeko hesitated, sniffing. “I  _ should _ be happy. All these good things are happening, but I can’t do it. I always feel like I’m betraying him -- “

 

“You’re not,” Kakashi cut in. “He’s dead.” Umeko winced and tried to pull away, but Kakashi held her. “He’s never going to be with you again and there’s nothing you can do about it. All you can do is keep living -- for you.”

 

Umeko swallowed, tears streaking down her cheeks.

 

“Are you unhappy? Is that the truth?”

 

Umeko stared at the bed between them. “No,” she whispered. “It’s not. But that’s why I’ve been hating myself since I met you. Because you make me feel good, so much better than -- “

 

Sentence unfinished, Umeko looked away, refusing to look at him.

 

“Better than what?” Kakashi asked, shifting on the bed to face her.

 

Umeko sucked in a deep breath. “Better than him.”

 

Kakashi said nothing. He breathed through his nose. Perhaps for his own sake, he’d always imagined Sakura was living an idyllic marriage, against all evidence of the contrary. She loved Sasuke with all her heart, didn’t she? She couldn’t be unhappy, then.

 

“Do you want to know why I cried that time?” Umeko said, timid. “When we were having sex.”

 

Kakashi nodded.

 

“I never even had an orgasm before you,” she said. “Not with someone else -- not that I slept with anyone else -- but I just… it never happened.”

 

Kakashi didn’t know what to say. He’d never really had to try hard with her -- nor with Sakura, not that he liked to think about  _ that _ \-- but he figured it must come from Kobayashi’s habits. Maybe it hadn’t.

 

“And that doesn’t even really matter,” Umeko continued. “But it’s just -- it’s a symptom -- was a symptom -- of something bigger. He never really cared for what I wanted. The life we’d planned -- it was always all about what he would do. And I convinced myself that’s what I wanted, too.”

 

So had Sakura, but Kakashi knew the truth.

 

“And I hate myself because I never feel this way with you. Because… even though you’re a prick in your own ways, I know deep down how much you care for me.” She wrapped her arms around her growing stomach. “That you’ll be there for me. No matter what. And...”

 

Kakashi slipped his fingers between hers, massaging her palm with his thumb. Everything she had said was true, but it wasn’t what unsettled his stomach -- it was realizing how real it all was. For months now, he’d been with her, laughed with her, slept with her,  _ lived _ with her. He  _ wanted _ it. And he’d wanted it like any other being since the beginning of the world wanted it, because how could he not? She was warm and smiled for him. It was all he could possibly ask for. That he would protect such a gift with all he had went without saying. He wished Sakura could know  _ this _ was how it supposed to be --  _ both _ ways. He could never blame her, though; if anything, he was the one to be forever late.

 

Umeko closed her fingers around his hands and sighed. “And I feel that way, too. I like it. I don’t want it to change.”

 

Kakashi looked up at her. 

 

“Kakashi,” Umeko whispered. “I love you… I do. I really do. I love you.”

 

Kakashi shut his eyes. He breathed through his nose and the world felt like it spun around him. In the darkness that swallowed him, he could think without distraction. He really was late. It had taken him forty-one years to hear these words. Sakura had first said them when she was, what? Twelve? Naruto had taken longer, but even he was a loving husband. They loved and were happy for it.

 

Kakashi, though, had yet to say it.

 

Kakashi opened his eyes and the darkness around him faded gradually. Umeko was no longer in front of him. Frowning, Kakashi stared at the ceiling above him. He was laying down -- and he recognized the white panels of that ceiling, blurry as they were. He’d spent so much time in the hospital he couldn’t possibly not recognize them. There were sounds around him, but Kakashi felt deaf to them.  _ I love you _ . He had wanted to say it, but he was too late.

 

Sakura’s face, complete with her green diamond, hovered above him and came into focus. Tears welled up in her eyes.  _ I love you _ .

 

“Kakashi,“ Sakura whispered. “Kakashi. You came back, you came back to us, at last.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it, guys! This is the end of Vagabond. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm very curious what everyone thinks about the ending. I won't be surprised to hear many people think it is abrupt, but that was the feeling I was going for. Vagabond was meant to be a short and sweet story which heavily focused on one part of Kakashi's life, and that part has now come to an end. What he will do from now on is an entirely different subject that Vagabond will not be exploring, but I think people can see where it will go rather clearly. I hope so, at least.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me through this!


End file.
